PLANTATION 
SONGS 

RuthM^EneryStuart 


<^EE7 


III 


ys"3 


PLANTATION  5ONG5 


'Oh,    shout  ill's    ini^lit  v  swt'ct. 


PLANTATION 
5ONG5 

AND  OTHER  VE.R5L 


BY 

RUTH  McLNLRY  STUART 

Author  of  "Sonny,"  "Carlotta's  Intended,"  etc. 


Illustrated  by  L.  W.  KLMBLL 


D.  APPLLTON  AND  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK  LONDON 

1916 


COPTBIGHT,    1916,    BT 

RUTH  McENERY  STUART 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


CONTENTS 


PLANTATION  SONGS 

PAGE 

BEAUTY-LAND  .        .        .        .    / 3 

WASH-DAY        .        .   ^ ......      ./ 6 

LADY  Mis'   EVE       .    v  ,.       V "  8 

APRIL       ..." 9 

STARS  AND  DIMPLES 10 

THE    PARADISE-BIRD .12 

ADAM'S  APPLE .        .17 

WHEN  DE  SUN  SWINGS  Low 18 

PLANTATION  HOE  SONG -        .20 

LADY-BABY .        .        .24 

WHY? .29 

JUNIOR-MAN 31 

OL'  MAMMY  MUMBLE-LOW 35 

THE  SISTERS     .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        ...      36 

JES  HER  WAY 39 

THE  FORTUNE-TELLER 43 

REVEREND  MINGO  MILLENYUM'S  ORDINATION        .        .        .46 

ROSES 51 

COME  ALONG,  Miss  NANCY .53 

TIGER-LILIES  .     , 55 

LUCINDY .        .57 

OH,  LOVE'S  MY  MEAT     .  62 

WINNIE .      64 

WASHERWOMAN'S  HYMN         .        .        .        .        .        .        .68 

DE  STAR  IN  DE  EAST      ........       70 

OH,  SHOUTIN'S  MIGHTY  SWEET 72 

VOICES 74 

v 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

O  MY  SOUL,  You  Mus'  BE  WALKIN'  IN  Yo'  SLEEP      .        .       77 

OH,  DE  LOHD,  HE  WALKED  DE  WATTES 80 

OH,  HEABEN'S  MIGHTY  CLOSE 82 


SONGS  OF  LIFE  AND  LOVE 

THE  SEA  OF  PEACE 85 

CONSECRATION 87 

ALLEGIANCE .       89 

DISARMAMENT 90 

BEWARE  THE  LEAVEN 92 

MARY 93 

BETHLEHEM     .         .......  .95 

THE  GENTLING  YEARS .97 

SITTING  BLIND  BY  THE  SEA .99 

COMPANIONSHIP 102 

APRIL  DREAMING     .........     103 

THE  BLUE 104 

SERVICE 105 

THE  CYCLE 

I.     NATURE'S  RHYTHM 106 

II.     THE  MOSAIC  LAW .     108 

III.    THE  GOSPEL •.        .        .110 

BROTHERHOOD 112 

LIFE'S  ARRAIGNMENT 117 

LIFE  AND  THE  VISION 122 


JUST  FOR  FUN 

YE  MERRY  PEACEMAKERS 125 

OCTOBER 129 

THE  MAN  IN  THE  MOON 133 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


"Oh,  shoutin's  mighty  sweet"  .....    Frontispiece 

PAGE 
"OF  Marse  Adam"  .........     15 

"So  wid  my  hoe  I  go  — 
Row  on  row,  row  on  row  —  "  .......    21 


"Tell  'em  mammy's  black  an'  ol', 

Human  sins  is  on  'er  soul, 

But  she  gyards  de  chillen's  for—"      .....    25 

"He'd  call  dem  Scriptures  out"       ......     47 

"Tell  de  trufe,  Lucindy's  ways 

Gits  me  so  upsot  some  days  —  "  ......    59 


vii 


PLANTATION  SONGS 


BEAUTY-LAND 
A  LULLABY 

KIVER  up  yo'  eye,  my  baby,  wid  yo'  mammy's 

sleeve, 

When  de  windy  elemints  is  callin'  out  aloud, 
Dat's  de  way  de  stars  dey  go  to  sleep,  I  do 

believe : 

Mammy  Night  she  kivers  up  her  babies  wid 
a  cloud. 

White  mamma,  lady  mamma,  she's  so 

mighty  gay, 

Beauty's  boun'  to  dance  at  de  ball; 
But   black   mammy,    nigger   mammy, 

ain't  a-gwine  away, 
Nuver  leave  'er  sleepin'  baby  't  all. 

All  about  in  Slumber-Ian'  dey's  beauty  layin' 

roun' — 

Layin'  loose,  a-waitin'  for  de  chillen  to  come 
in; 

3 


PLANTATION  SONGS 

Yisterday  my  baby  went,  an'  what  you  think 

she  foun' 

But  dem  creases  in  'er  wris'es  an'  dat  dimple 
in  'er  chin? 

White  mamma,  lady  mamma,  she's  so 

mighty  gay, 

Satins  boun'  to  rustle  at  de  ball; 
But   black   mammy,    nigger   mammy, 

nuver  gwine  away— 
Ain't  expected  nowhar  else  at  all. 

Lady  mamma  walked  in  Beauty's  garden  as  a 

babe ; 
Same  ol'  nigger  mammy  settin'  watchin'  at 

de  gate, 
Trusted  wid  de  treasure  dough  dey  say  she  was 

a  slabe — 

Oh,  chillen,  quit  yo'  foolin',  'caze  de  times  is 
gittin'  late. 

White  mamma,  lady  mamma,  she's  so 

mighty  gay, 

Boun'  to  greet  de  gov'ner  at  de  ball; 
But   black   mammy,    nigger   mammy, 

ain't  a-gwine  away — 
No,  sir,  Mister  Angel,  don't  you  call. 
4 


BEAUTY-LAND 

Baby  's  gone  to  Beauty-Ian' — de  pinky  gates 

is  shet — 
So  mammy  gwine  a-noddin',  too,  to  gyar- 

dens  in  de  sky, 
To  view  de  heavenly  mansions  whar  de  golden 

streets  is  set, 

An'  mammy  an'  her  babies  will  be  gethered, 
by  an'  by. 

White  mamma,  lady  mamma,  she's  so 

mighty  gay, 

Boun'  to  grace  de  'casion  at  de  ball; 
But   black   mammy,    nigger   mammy, 

ain't  a- gwine  away — 
Nuver  leave  'er  sleepin'  baby  't  all. 


WASH-DAY 

OH,  de  sunrise,  but  it's  sweet! 

An'  de  dew-grass  licks  my  feet 
When  I  balamces  my  bundle  on  my  head, 

An'  I  sa'nters  to  de  spring 

Whar  de  risin'  bubbles  sing 
In  de  chiny-grove  behin'  de  cattle-shed. 

Oh,  dey's  lather  in  soap, 

An'  dey's  bubbles  in  hope; 
But  my  love  he's  in  de  shed  amongs'  de  calves, 

An'  he'll  meet  me  by  de  mill 

At  de  risin'  o'  de  hill— 

'Caze  he  knows  I   totes  my  bundle  tied  in 
halves. 

He's  a  skimpy  little  nigger, 

But  I  wouldn't  have  him  bigger; 

He's  de  figger  an'  de  face  o'  my  desire: 
Jes  as  sweet  an'  dry  an'  spindlin' 
As  my  pine  he  splits  for  kindlin' — 

Takes  a  mighty  little  thing  to  light  a  fire. 

6 


WASH-DAY 

When  de  dusk  brings  out  de  edges 

O'  de  west'ard-growin'  hedges, 
An'  each  gou'd-flower  on  de  stable  is  a  sun, 

F'om  de  fiel'  beyon'  my  bleachin' 

Comes  a  cow-song,  so  beseechin' 
Dat  I  fools  aroun'  untel  de  milkin's  done. 

Clo'es  is  sweeter  once  dewed  over 

Layin'  out  upon  de  clover, 
An'  a  night-shower  nuver  does  'em  any  harm; 

So,  at  sundown,  shadder-figgers 

Of  two  empty-handed  niggers 
Dances,  tall,  across  de  medders,  arm  in  arm. 

An'  we  watches  'em  an'  giggles, 

An'  I  dodges  an'  I  wriggles, 
So  de  shadder-man  can't  tech  de  lady's  wais' 

Till  he  reaches  wid  a  motion 

Dat's  perzac'ly  to  my  notion; 
Den  I  'bleeged  to  let  him  span  it  to  his  tas'e. 

Yas,  de  risin'  sun  is  sweet, 

But  de  goin'  down's  complete; 
On'y  trouble  is  it  seems  to  come  too  soon; 

But  dey's  alms  one  dark  minute 

Wid  de  tas'e  o'  heaven  in  it — 
Jes'  a  kissin'-space,  betwix'  de  sun  an'  moon. 

7 


LADY  MIS'  EVE 

OLE  Cap'n  Devil  tuk  a  walk  in  Paradise — 

Lady  Mis'  Eve  she's  a-walkin',  too- 
Hoped  to  meet  Mars'  Adam,  she  was  steppin' 

mighty  nice — 
Lady  Mis'  Eve  she's  a-walkin',  too — 

Dis  was  'fo'  de  fig-time,  so  my  lady  picked  a 

rose — 

Lady  Mis'  Eve  she's  a-walkin',  too — 
An'  she  helt  it  'g'inst  de  sunlight,  as  she  felt  de 

need  o'  clo'es — 
Lady  Mis'  Eve  she's  a-walkin',  too — 

Den   she  shuk  'er  yaller  ringlets  down  an' 

'lowed  dat  she  was  dressed — 
Lady  Mis'  Eve  had  a  walkin'  fit — 
Cap'n  Devil  come  a-quoilin' — ever'body  knows 

de  rest — 
Lady  Mis'  Eve  she's  a-walkin'  yit. 


8 


APRIL 
ON  THE  LOWER  MISSISSIPPI 

OL'  Jack  Frost  he  sneaks,  a-creepin', 
While  Sis'  Snow  she's  dwindled,  sleepin' ; 
April  's  blinkin'  yonder,  weepin', 
Wid  a  rainbow  'g'inst  her  hair, 
So  dey  mus'  be  sun  somewhere. 

Heavy  fogs  lays  on  de  river 
Whar  de  greenin'  willers  shiver 
Tell  gray  blankets  wrop  an'  kiver 
All  de  trimblin'  branches  bare — 
An'  no  sign  o'  sun  nowhere. 

Bright  new  ginghams  in  de  churches, 
Schoolmarms  trimmin'  limber  birches, 
OF  man  diggin'  bait  for  pyerches, 
Hummin',  "Fishes  sho  to  bite, 
Ef  dis  sun  don't  shine  too  bright." 

Boys  an'  gals  all  out  a-co'tin', 
Lots  o'  fun  an'  music  floatin' 
Out  amongst  de  rafts  an'  boatin' ; 
Oh,  dey's  plenty  sunshine  there 
Whether  skies  is  dark  or  clair! 
2  9 


STARS  AND  DIMPLES 

OL'  Sis  Cow  was  jes'  a-perishin'  to  laugh, 
So  she  had  to  chaw  hard  on  her  cud 

When  she  come  a-trudgin'  home  wid  a  little 

spotted  calf 
Dat  she  'lowed  she  had  found  in  de  wood. 

Three  white  stars  like  its  mammy's  on  its  ears — 
Cow,  she  took  de  number  wid  a  grin, 

Same  as  de  chillen's  mammy,  tickled  mos'  to 

tears 
At  her  dimples  breakin'  out  in  baby's  chin. 

Six  white  stars  down  a-waitin'  at  de  gate — 

Sundown  drappin'  into  dark— 
Calfie  ambles  middlin'   stiddy,   spotted  head 
agin'  its  mate; 

Wonder  do  it  reco'nize  de  mark! 

Wonder  do  de  Baby  know  de  mammy-dimples, 

too, 

When  he  doubles  up  his  fist  to  pound  'em  in, 
10 


STARS  AND  DIMPLES 

A-crowin'  an'  a-preachin',  wid  a  high  oF  hulla 
baloo, 

Whilst  dey  interchange  de  secret,  chin  to 
chin. 


11 


THE  PARADISE-BIRD 
HOW  HE  GOT  HIS  COLORS  AXD  LOST  HIS  SONG 

OH,  de  Paradise-bird  in  de  knowledge  tree 

In  Eden's  gyarden,  he  sez,  sezee: 

"I  better  roost  high,  I  do  believe, 

'Caze  ruction's  brewin'  'twix'  Adam  an'  Eve; 

Dey's  apples  in  'er  cheek  an'  hunger  in  'is  eye. 

Oh]  yas,"  he  'low,  "I  better  roos'  high!" 

(Whilst  Adam  an'  Eve,  like  chillen  strayed 
Aroun'  dat  apron-fig-tree's  shade.) 

De  bird  was  gray  as  de  pyerchin'  limb, 

So  he  could  look  down  an'  dey  couldn't  see  him, 

Yit  he  roosted  high  like  a  wisdom  bird, 

But  he  saw  what  he  saw  an'  he  heard  what  he 

heard ; 

He  heard  dat  snake  when  he  sclaimed,  sezee: 
"I  bleeged  to  squirm  aroun'  dis  apple-tree!" 
(To  see  what's  what,  e'vesdrop  on  Eve, 
An'  fin'  what  Adam  got  up  'is  sleeve.)* 

*  He  tuk  dat  word  f 'om  'is  sarpint  sight, 
'Caze  he  seen  how  he'd  soon  have  'em  dressed,  all  right. 

12 


THE  PARADISE-BIRD 

Den  de  Paradise-bird,  he  tried  to  hum, 
But  de  talkin'  snake  had  skeered  'im  dumb; 
And  de  Bible  facts,  dey  rushed  so  fast, 
He  sca'cely  sensed  when  de  apple  passed — 
Wid  de  angel  o'  wrath — an'  de  flamin'  sword — 
An'  de  call  for  "ADAM!"  in  de  voice  o'  de 

Lord; 

(An'  him  an'  Eve  hid  back  in  de  corn, 
Sewin'  fig-leaf  clo'es  wid  a  o'ange  thorn). 

Brer  Paradise-bird  looked  on  untel 
He  teetered  on  'is  limb  tel  he  all  but  fell ; 
Still,  he  kep'  'is  color  tel  Adam,  sezee: 
"Dis  lady,  O  Lord,  wha'  you  loaned  me, 
She  tempted  me  so'e  wid  a  bait  o'  fruit, 
An'  we  back  heah,  sewin'  a  proper  suit. 

(Den  he  heerd  ol'  Adam  chuckle  an'  say: 
"Dat  apron-fig-tree  saved  de  day!") 

He  spoke  sort  o'  hoa'se,  lak  'is  throat  was  so'e, 
'S  ef  'is  words  got  clogged  'ginst  de  apple- 

co'e; 

An'  it  sounded  so  mean  to  de  Paradise-bird, 
After  all  he'd  seen  an'  all  he'd  heard, 
Dat  he  felt  'isself  turn  all  green  in  de  face 
('Caze  a  he-bird  feels  any  man's  disgrace). 

13 


PLANTATION  SONGS 

Ail'  he  trimbled  an'  he  shivered,  wid  no 

pertense, 
An'  he  turned  ev'ry  color,  an'  he  ain't  sung 

sence! 


14 


"OF  Marsc  Adam." 


ADAM'S  APPLE 

OL'  Marse  Adam!     OF  Marse  Adam! 
Et  de  lady's  apple  up  an'  give  her  all  de  blame. 
Greedy-gut,  greedy-gut,  whar  is  yo'  shame? 
OF  Marse  Adam,  man,  whar  is  yo'  shame? 

OF  Marse  Adam!    Ol'  Marse  Adam! 
Caught  de  apple  in  'is  neck  an'  made  it  mighty 

so'e. 
An'  so  we  po'  gran'chillen  has  to  swaller  roun' 

de  co'e. 
OF  Marse  Adam,  man,  whar  is  yo'  shame? 

OF  Marse  Adam!    OF  Marse  Adam! 
Praised  de  lady's  attitudes  an'  compliment  'er 

figur'— 

Did  n't  have  de  principle  of  any  decent  nigger. 
OF  Marse  Adam,  man,  whar  is  yo'  shame? 

OF  Marse  Adam!    OF  Marse  Adam! 
Et  de  lady's  apple  up  an'  give  her  all  de  blame. 
Greedy-gut,  greedy-gut,  whar  is  yo'  shame? 
OF  Marse  Adam,  man,  shame  on  you,  shame! 

17 


WHEN  DE  SUN  SWINGS  LOW 

LOOK  out  for  Mister  Swaller  when  de  sun 

swings  low — 

Watch  him  swoop  an'  sway ! 
He  keeps  a  mighty  dippin',  like  he  don'  know 

whar  to  go, 
A-saggin'  every  way. 
He  starts  sort  o'  nimbly, 
But  he  settles  mighty  wimbly 
When  he  scurries  for  de  chimbley 
When  de  sun  swings  low. 

Does  you  see  a  cloud  a-risin'  when  de  sun 

swings  low? 
Listen  ef  it  sings; 

Hit's  a  swarm  o'  gray  muskitties,  'bout  a  mil 
lion  strong  or  so, 
A-sharpenin'  up  dey  stings. 
Dey  keeps  a  mighty  filin', 
An'  dey  tries  to  sing  beguilin', 
But  de  'skitties'  song  is  rilin' 
When  de  sun  swings  low. 
18 


WHEN  DE  SUN  SWINGS  LOW 

Oh,  de  woods  is  all  conversin'  when  de  sun 

swings  low — 
Bird  an'  beast  an'  tree; 
Dey  all  communes  together  in  de  languages 

dey  know, 

An'  sperits  rise  to  see. 
De  nightmares  prances, 
An'  de  wull-o'-wust  dances, 
When  de  moonlight  advances 
An'  de  sun  swings  low. 


19 


PLANTATION  HOE  SONG 

HEAH  wid  my  hoe  I  go — 
Row  on  row,  row  on  row — 

Hoein'  my  corn: 
Five  stalks  for  every  hill — 
One  for  de  rust  to  kill, 
One  for  de  cutworm's  bill, 

Three  for  de  barn. 

Red-waistcoat  robin  sings 

Up  'mongs'  de  greenin'  things, 

Mate  on  de  nest; 
My  pardner's  nestin'  too, 
Nestin'  like  humans  do — 
Got  lonesome,  same  as  you, 

Robin  Redbreast. 

So  wid  my  hoe  I  go — 
Row  on  row,  row  on  row — 

Proud  as  a  king. 
Dry-rot  an'  damp  mildew 
Mus'  share  in  all  I  do; 
But  Gord's  my  pardner,  too — 

Dat's  why  I  sing. 
'20 


"So  wid  my  hoe  I  go — 
Row   on    row,    row7    on    row— 


PLANTATION  HOE  SONG 

Robin,  he  "knows  it  all," 
'Ca'se  he  can  sing  an'  call — 

Dat's  on'y  half; 
Maybe  a  bird  can  shirk, 
Singin'  like  lazy  clerk, 
But  on'y  men  dat  work 

Knows  how  to  laugh. 

Whilst  his  slim  mate  an'  him 
Built  on  de  apple  limb, 

I  sowed  my  Ian', 
Three  grains  in  every  hole: 
One  for  de  shovin'  mole, 
One  for  de  devil's  toll, 

One  for  to  stan'. 

So  wid  my  hoe  I  go — 
Row  on  row,  row  on  row — 

Laughin'  along; 
Let  robin  sing  at  ease 
Whilst  I  hoes  corn  an'  peas: 
Gord  plants  him  cherry  trees 

Jes  for  his  song. 


23 


LADY-BABY 
LULLABY 

Go  to  sleep,  my  lady-baby,  please,  ma'am! 

Dream  about  de  purty  t'ings, 

Silky  frocks  an'  finger-rings, 

Fit  to  dazzle  queens  an'  kings; 
Take   yo'   pick,    my   purty  little   lady-baby, 
please,  ma'am! 

Refrain 

Don't  be  'fraidy,  baby, 
Mammy's  little  lady-baby — 
Bye — oh,  bye — oh,  bye! 

Go  to  sleep,  my  lady-baby,  please,  ma'am! 
Angels  waits  to  fly  wid  you 
All  de  heavenly  dream-Ian'  th'ough — 
Twix'  de  stars  an'  up  de  blue- 
Sail  away,  my  lily-one,  my  lady-baby,  please, 
ma'am ! 

24, 


"Tell    'cm    mammy's    black    an'   oP, 
Human  sins  is  on  'er  soul, 
But  she  gyards  de  chillen's  fol'— " 


LADY-BABY 

Refrain 

Don't  be  'fraidy,  baby, 
Mammy's  little  lady-baby — - 
Bye — oh,  bye — oh,  bye! 

Go  to  sleep,  my  lady-baby,  please,  ma'am! 
Little  prince  wid  yaller  hair 
Waitin'  for  my  chil'  somewhere, 
Whilst  she's  growin'  tall  an'  fair; 

Sleep  an'  grow,  my  co'tly  little  lady-baby, 
please,  ma'am! 

Refrain 

Don't  be  'fraidy,  baby, 
Mammy's  little  lady-baby — 
Bye — oh,  bye — oh,  bye! 

Go  to  sleep,  my  lady-baby,  please,  ma'am! 
Walk  in  dreams  wid  angels  white, 
Rainbow-dressed  an'  crowned  wid  light, 
Smile  an'  mammy'll  see  de  sight — 
Don't    forgit   to   tell    'em    'bout    ol'    darky- 
mammy,  please,  ma'am! 
* 


PLANTATION  SONGS 

Refrain 

Don't  be  'fraidy,  baby, 
Mammy's  little  lady-baby — 
Bye — oh,  bye — oh,  bye! 

Tell  'em,  yas,  oh,  tell  'em,  tell  'em,  please, 

ma'am ! 

Tell  'em  mammy's  black  an'  ol', 
Human  sins  is  on  'er  soul, 
But  she  gyards  de  chillen's  fol'- 
Tell  'em  Gord  done  trus'  'er  wid  dis  lady-baby, 
please,  ma'am! 

Refrain 

Don't  be  'fraidy,  baby, 
Mammy's  little  lady-baby, 
Bye — oh,  bye — oh,  bye! 


28 


WHY? 

"How  come?"  an'  "Why?"  an'  "What's  de 

use?" 

Is  handy  words  for  a  lame  excuse, 
But  dey's  mighty  few  words,  ef  you  swing  'em 

right, 
But '11  open  doors  an'  let  in  light. 

"How  come  mammy-miss  mus'  wash  my  face?" 
"Oh,  why  does  high  shoes  have  to  lace?" 
"What  is  de  use  of  bonnet  or  hat?" 
Dey's  some  nice  chillen  dat  talks  like  dat. 

Mos'  little  folks  is  full  o'  "whys?" 
All  disp'oportioned  to  dey  size, 
But  I  knows  one,  I's  proud  to  say, 
Dat  swings  his  "whys"  de  other  way: 

"How  come  mammy-miss  so  good  to  me?" 
"What  makes  a  bird  sing  in  a  tree?" 
"How  big  must  I  make  my  balloon 
When  we  go  sailin'  roun'  de  moon?" 

29 


PLANTATION  SONGS 

Now  "whys"  like  dese  ain't  onpolite, 

An'  mammy  she  always  answers  right; 

So  when  his  "whys"  is  all  explained, 

De  junior's  bathed,  an'  dressed — an   trained, 


30 


JUNIOR-MAN 

JUNIOR-MAN  is  Mammy's  boy, 
Don't  keer  ef  he  do  destroy 
Boughten  kites  an'  'spensive  clo'es, 
Dat's  de  way  de  juniors  grows! 
But  he  plays  so  swif,  some  days, 
I  jes'  holds  my  bref  an'  prays. 
Lamed  hisself  las'  week,  po'  dunce, 
Tryin'  to  ride  two  dogs  at  once, 
An',  betwix'  de  two,  dey  flung 
Man  so  hard  he  bit  his  tongue! 

Junior's  on'y  gwine  on  seven, 
Tall  enough  to  be  eleven; 
Grows  so  fas'  befo'  my  eyes, 
I  can't  keep  up  wid  'is  size. 
Got  to  rise  up  tall  an'  straight 
An'  take  on  a  noble  gait 
Fit  to  tote  dat  Randolph  grace, 
'Gin'  he  takes  his  papa's  place! 

Little  toes  is  bruised  wid  knocks, 
Man  will  hide  'is  shoes  an'  socks ; 
3  31 


PLANTATION  SONGS 

Den,  when  Jack  Fros'  sniffs  aroun', 
On  de  white-hot  crackly  groun', 
Nothin'  does  but  red-top  boots 
On  his  little  freckled  foots; 
Plegged  his  mama  an'  his  aunts 
Tel  dey  put  'im  in  dem  pants, 
So  we  laid  his  kilts  away 
Tel  mo'  company  comes  to  stay. 

Man,  he'd  ruther  play  wid  Micks 
An'  learn  dey  little  Irish  tricks 
Dan  set  up,  quiet  as  a  mouse, 
An'  talk  good  grammar  in  de  house ; 
One  thing  sho,  his  mammy-nurse 
She  gwine  teach  'im  to  converse 
Jes'  de  way  she  hears  his  pa 
Set  down  talkin'  wid  'is  ma! 
Co'se,  I  has  to  do  it  slow, 
Caze  he's  constant  runnin'  so! 

Alms  ketchin'  doodle-bugs, 
'R  pullin'  out  de  bung-hole  plugs — 
Lettin'  good  molasses  was'e, 
Jes'  to  track  it  roun'  de  place. 
Now  he's  swallerin'  o'ange-seeds, 
D'rec'ly  tastin'  cuyus  weeds, 
32 


JUNIOR-MAN 

Smokin'  corn-silk,  chewin'  spruce, 
Laws-a-mussy !  what's  de  use 
Gittin'  flustered  up  an'  vexed, 
Dreadin'  what  he  gwine  do  next. 
Wonder  is  to  me,  I  say, 
Man  ain't  pizened  every  day! 
Tripped,  dis  mornin',  crost  de  rugs, 
Tryin'  to  smother  me  wid  hugs 
Whilst  he  hid  my  tukky-fan — 
Sly,  mischievious  Junior-man! 


Man  kin  squeeze  hisself,  he  say, 
Any  place  a  hen  kin  lay! 
Bruised  'is  little  arms  an'  legs 
Crawlin'  'neath  de  barn  for  eggs; 
Got  wedged  in,  one  day,  so  tight, 
Nuver  got  'im  out  tel  night, 
But  he  hugged  'is  little  hat, 
Filled  wid  eggs,  all  whole,  at  dat! 
Man  ain't  nuver  yit  give  in 
Over  what  he'd  once-t  begin! 
All  my  prayer  to  Heaven  is, 
"Spare  my  life,  Lord,  tel  he's  riz!" 
Wouldn't  want  no  other  ban' 
Leadin'  up  our  Junior-man! 
33 


PLANTATION  SONGS 

But  I  nuver  feels  jes'  right 
Tel  Man's  in  his  bed  at  night. 
Time  he  got  los',  here  las'  week, 
All  I  thought  of  was  de  creek, 
An'  befo'  dey  rung  de  bell, 
I  had  snook  an'  searched  de  well; 
Co'se  I  know  dat's  lack  o'  faith, 
Jes'  de  way  de  Scripture  saith, 
But  sometimes  Man  acts  so  sweet, 
Like  a  cherubim,  complete, 
An'  dem  innocent  blue  eyes 
Seems  like  pieces  o'  de  skies, 
Whilst  he  questions  me  so  queer 
Like  he  sca'cely  belongs  down  here. 
Dat's  howcome  my  heart's  so  light 
When  he's  safe-t  in  bed  at  night. 

Allus  begs  to  set  up  late, 
But  at  bedtime,  'long  'bout  eight, 
I  don't  sca'cely  smoove  my  lap 
'Fo'  he  starts  to  blink  an'  gap; 
An'  I  totes  him  up  de  stairs, 
Too  far  gone  to  say  his  prayers ; 
So,  I  prays  his  soul  to  keep, 
Whilst  I  lays  him  down  to  sleep. 


OL'  MAMMY  MUMBLE-LOW 
A  PORTRAIT 

OF  Mammy  Mumble-low, 
What  mek  you  grumble  so? 

Shoes  on  yo'  feet, 

Good  bread  an'  meat, 

No  work  to  do 

De  long  day  th'ough; 
Yit,  Mammy  Mumble-low, 
All  day  long  you  grumble  so — 

Ol'  Mammy  Mumble-low! 

OF  Mammy  Mumble-low, 

I  know  huccome  she  grumble  so ; 

Her  foots  can't  fin' 

De  way  she  gwine, 

Becaze  her  wits 

Dey  jes'  fergits; 
An'  dat's  huccome  she  mumble  so 
An'  stumble  so,  an'  tumble  so — 

Po'  oP  Mammy  Mumble-low! 


35 


THE  SISTERS 

OL'  black  Moll,  she  ain'  no  doll ; 

She  ain'  got  ways  an'  manners 
Lak  Silvy  Grace  dat  steps  in  lace 

An'  totes  de  s'ciety  banners. 

Moll's  black's  a  chimbly-back, 
An'  short  an'  fat  an'  chunky; 

Game-makin'  folks  casts  cruel  jokes 
An'  calls  'er  "Molly-monkey." 

Silvy  Grace,  she  'iles  'er  face 
Wid  goose-grease  an'  pomatum, 

An'  wrops  dem  kinks  becaze  she  thinks 
Dem  tallered  strings'll  straight  'em. 

Moll  sweeps  de  yard;  her  hands  is  hard 
As  her  ol'  shuck-broom  handle; 

Her  pallet-bed's  in  granny's  shed 
Whar  de  win'  blows  out  de  candle. 
36 


THE  SISTERS 

De  chillen  knows  who'll  men'  dey  clo'es 
To  save  'em  gittin'  lickin's; 

Dey  finds  Moll's  do',  jes  same  as  po' 
Weak  calves  an'  pippy  chickens. 

Silvy's  slim's  a  poplar-limb, 
An'  when  she  starts  a-rockin', 

She  clair  forgits  how  minutes  flits — 
Her  clocks  is  on  'er  stockin'. 

Black  Moll's  wais'  is  any  place 
Her  secon' -handed  frocks  is, 

Which  ain't  a  bit  mo'  neater  fit 
'N  what  'er  shoes  an'  socks  is. 

Silvy  Grace,  she  leads  de  place 

In  shoutin'  'bout  salvation; 
She  rips  dem  suits  dat  Molly  flutes, 

An'  wakes  de  whole  plantation. 

Moll,  she  say,  she  hopes  some  day 

To  study  high  behavior, 
An'  when  ol'  gran'  don't  need  'er  han', 

She  'lows  to  seek  de  Savior. 

When  Silvy  Grace  lif's  up  'er  face 
She  prays  wid  monst'ous  yearnin' 
37 


PLANTATION  SONGS 

For  Gord  to  "call  on  po3  lost  Moll 
An3  match  3er  fom  de  burniri!" 

An'  Moll,  po'  wit,  say  she  ain'  fit 
To  climb  no  golden  stairs; 

But  ef  she  do,  she'll  know  it's  tliough 
De  power  o3  Silvy3s  prayers! 


38 


JES  HER  WAY 

OH,  I  loves  a  little  widder,  an'  'er  name's  Me- 

lindy  Jane, 

An'  she  love  me  lakwise  also — so  she  say ; 
But  you  can't  put  no  dependence  on  my  lady 

'Lindy  Jane, 

'Caze  she  talks  to  all  de  ge'men  dat-a-way; 
An'  she  looks  so  pleadin', 
An'  she  ac's  so  misleadin', 
But  I  don't  keer  what  de  high  and 

mighties  say, 
Caze  she  don't  mean  to  sin 
When  she  tecks  de  ge'men  in, 
Hit's  only  jes  her  way. 

When  I  see  a  stalk  o'  sugar-cane  a-swayin'  in 

de  breeze, 
Wavin'  "No,"  but  noddin'  "Yas"  wid  all  its 

tips, 
Hit  'minds  me  o'  my  lady  when  she  greets  me 

wid  a  freeze, 

Whilst  de  love-words  hangs  a-trimblin'  on 
'er  lips. 

39 


PLANTATION  SONGS 

Oh,  she's  cold  as  December, 
An'  she's  warm  as  September, 

Or  she's  off  an'  on  jes  like  a  April  day; 
But  to  figgurfy  de  munts, 
She'll  perform  'em  all  at  once, 

But  it's  only  jes  her  way. 

Dey's  o'  purty  gals  a  plenty,  down  a-hoein'  in 

de  cane; 

Twenty  of  'em  I  could  marry  any  day ; 
But  I'd  ruther  be  fooled  by  my  lady  'Lindy 

Jane, 

Jes  to  work  by  'er  side  in  de  hay, 
When  she  rakes  so  keerless, 
An'  she  flirt  so  fearless, 
When  she  drawin'  for  'er  labor  by  de 

day; 

But  she  don't  mean  no  harm 
When  she  swindles  on  de  farm; 
Hit's  only  jes  her  way. 

When  she  crouches  on  de  mo'ners'  bench  wid 

sinners  seekin'  grace, 

An'  she  whispers  to  me,  "HoF  me,  lest  I 
fall!" 

40 


JES  HER  WAY 

I  sustains  'er  sinkin'  sperit  wid  my  arm  aroun' 

'er  wais', 

An'  I  hopes  she'll  be  de  las'  to  git  de  call. 
But  I  nuver  holds  'er  long 
'Fo'  she  busts  into  song — 
She  kin  git  a  call  for  glory  any  day; 
Yit  she  dances  back  to  sin 
When  de  fiddle-notes  begin, 
But  it's  on'y  jes  her  way. 


She's  a  mighty  scrumptious  lady  when  you 

meets  her  on  de  block 
Gwine  to   chu'ch  in  all  'er  secon' -handed 

clo'es ; 

But  I'd  ruther  set  beside  'er  in  'er  cotton-pick- 
in'  frock, 

When  she  gethers  clover  blorsoms  wid  'er 
toes. 

She's  a  saint  an'  she's  a  sinner, 
An'  she  ain't  no  new  beginner 
When  it  comes  to  mixin'  righteousness 

an'  play; 

But  de  devil  couldn't  tame  'er, 
An'  I  doubt  ef  Gord'U  blame  'er, 
'Caze  He  made  'er  jes  dat  way. 
41 


PLANTATION  SONGS 

I   ain't  got  but  one   objection  to  my  lady 

'Lindy  Jane; 
Hit's    'er   widderhood    I   hates   wid    all   my 

might ; 
So  we  argufies  de  topic,  holdin'  hands  along 

de  lane, 

Whilst  I  begs  to  kyore  'er  only  fault  in  sight ; 
An'  my  courage  come  a-floodin' 
('Caze  she  always  marries  sudden), 

An'  I  coaxes  'er  to  settle  it  today; 
But  she  answers  wid  a  titter 
Dat  I  "needn't  'spec'  to  git  her!" 

But  dat's  only  jes  her  way. 


42 


THE  FORTUNE-TELLER 
AS  DESCRIBED  BY  TRIFLIN'  SAM 

SHE'S  my  lily-o'-de- valley, 

But  she  lives  upon  de  hill, 

An'  'er  valley  hit's  de  alley 

Twix'  de  brick-yard  an'  de  kiln; 

But  she  sa'nters  'mongs'  de  fan-pa'ms 
An'  she  reads  out  all  de  man-pa'ms, 

An'  she  tells  each  one  a  fortune  wuth  a  hun 
dred-dollar  bill. 

But  she'll  tell  it  for  a  quarter 

When  de  boys  is  short  o'  change, 

'Caze  she  say  de  seventh  daughter, 

Wid  a  gif '  to  kyore  de  mange, 
Is  ordained  by  signs  an'  wonders, 
Midday  moons,  an'  summer  thunders, 

To  distribute  prophesy  in'  everywhar  within  'er 
range. 

She  kin  feel  de  river  risin' 
For  a  week  befo'  de  boom, 
Whilst  she  brews  a  pot  o'  pizen 
An'  she  hums  a  chant  o'  doom 

43 


PLANTATION  SONGS 

Tel  she  sees  de  cuss  is  lifted — 
Dat's  de  way  my  Lily's  gifted! 
Does  you  wonder  dat  I  loves  'er  lak  a  valley- 
lily  bloom? 

She's  de  color  of  a  lemon 

Wid  a  little  tinge  o'  brown, 

An'  she  interviews  de  gem'en 

In  a  mighty  cuyus  gown; 

When  you  hear  dem  earrings  jingle, 
You  kin  feel  yo'  goose-skin  tingle, 

An'  you  trimbles  lak  de  almonds  o'  yo'  ears  is 
fallin'  down! 

She's  a  queen  an'  fit  to  dazzle 
When  she  wears  dat  crescent  crown; 
An'  she'll  gather  sprigs  o'  basil 
An'  she'll  'stribute  'em  aroun', 

Whilst  she'll  promise  one  a  marri'ge 

An'  to  one  a  horse  an'  carri'ge 
An'  she'll  "glimpse  de  White  House  loomin' ' 
for  de  mayor  o'  de  town. 

Me,  I  sca'cely  ever  sees  'er, 
Less  dey  's  lots  o'  men  aroun' ; 
But  Gord  knows  I  strives  to  please  'er, 
'Caze  I  loves  'er  walkin'  groun'. 

44 


THE  FORTUNE-TELLER 

But  I's  wo'e  out  to  a  frazzle 
C'lectin'  rabbit-foots  an'  basil 
An'  dem  sarpent-toofs  an'  conjure-bones  she 
dangles  on  'er  gown. 

An'  I  wades  de  swamps  for  pizens 
Though  I  sho  is  feared  o'  snakes, 
An'  dark  nights  I  views  uprisin's 
Of  de  sperits  in  de  brakes, 

'Caze  she  say  a  cross-eyed  nigger 

Of  my  spindle,  bow-leg  figger 
Is  ordained  to  'sciver  conjures  in  de  ma'shes 
an'  de  lakes. 

An'  so  dat's  de  way  I  do  do — 

Love  don't  mind  a  thing  lak  that — 

An'  I  spec'  I  is  a  hoodoo, 

But  I  don't  know  whar  I's  at 

When  she  calls  me  "ya^er  sweetness," 
But  de  height  o'  love's  completeness 

Is  de  way  she'll  even  trus'  me  whilst  I  pass 
aroun'  de  hat. 


45 


REVEREND  MIXGO  MILLEXYUM'S 
ORDINATION 

AS  RELATED  BY  HIMSELF 

WHEN  I  was  a  little  pickanin', 

Down  on  Sweet-gum  Plantation, 
I  used  to  hear  de  preacher  preach, 
An'  screech  an'  screech  an'  screech  an'  screech, 
Expoundin'  out  salvation. 

He'd  open  up  dat  Bible-book 

Befo'  de  congergation, 
An',  Sir,  he'd  call  dem  Scriptures  out, 
An'  shout  an'  shout  an'  shout  an'  shout, 

Widout  no  education. 


He  nuver  knowed  'is  A,  B,  C's, 

Much  less  pernounciation, 
But  when  he'd  focus  on  a  page, 
An'  rage  an'  rage  an'  rage  an'  rage, 
Gord  sent  interpellation. 
46 


"He'd   call   dem   Scriptures   out." 


REVEREND  MILLENYUM 

He'd  show  de  devil's  forked  tail 

Out  clair,  in  his  noration, 
He'd  h'ist  dat  pitch-fork  up  on  high, 
An'  cry  an'  cry  an'  cry  an'  cry, 

An'  p'int  insinuation, 


An'  I'd  brace  up  an'  clench  de  pew, 

An'  try  to  keep  my  station, 
Whilst  he'd  light  up  de  fumes  of  hell, 
An'  yell  an'  yell  an'  yell  an'  yell, 
Tel  we  could  smell  damnation! 


One  day,  I  swooned  off  in  a  tranch, 

F'om  brimstone  suffocation, 
An'  red-hot  Sins  wid  forked  tails 
Riz  up  wid  wails  an'  wails  an'  wails, 
An'  stopped  my  circulation. 


Den  I  slid  bumpin'  down  to  Hell, 

My  senses  on  vacation; 
An'  when  I  got  whar  Satan  is, 
Whar  sinners  bile  an'  sizz  an'  sizz, 

For  his  partick'lar  ration, 
4  49 


PLAXTATIOX  SOXGS 

I  warn't  no  mo'n  a  cushion  o'  pins 

Big  as  de  whole  creation, 
An'  every  pin  was  a  red-hot  Sin, 
A-stickin'  in  an'  a-stickin'  in — 

Tel  I  los'  all  sinsation. 

I  come  th'ough  on  de  tranch-room  flo', 

Wid  de  seekers  on  probation; 
An'  when  I  heerd  'em  screech  an'  screech 
"A  babe  an  sucklin'  called  to  preach!" 

Dat  was  my  ordination! 


50 


ROSES 
PLANTATION  LOVE  SONG 

OH,  my  Rose  ain't  white, 
An'  my  Rose  ain't  red, 

An'  my  Rose  don't  grow 
On  de  vine  on  de  shed, 

But  she  lives  in  de  cabin 
Whar  de  roses  twines, 

An'  she  wrings  out  'er  clo'es 
In  de  shade  o'  de  vines. 

An'  de  red  leaves  fall, 
An'  de  white  rose  sheds, 

Tell  dey  kiver  all  de  groun' 
Whar  my  brown  Rose  treads. 

An'  de  butterfly  comes, 
An'  de  bumble-bee,  too, 

An'  de  hummin'-bird  hums 
All  de  long  day  th'ough. 
51 


PLANTATION  SOXGS 

An'  dey  sip  at  de  white, 
An'  dey  tas'e  at  de  red, 

An5  dey  fly  in  an'  out 

O'  de  vines  roun'  de  shed 

While  I  comes  along 

An'  I  gethers  some  buds, 

An'  I  mecks  some  remarks 
About  renchin'  an'  suds. 

But  de  birds  an'  de  bees 
An'  de  rest  of  us  knows 

Dat  we  all  hangin'  roun' 
Des  ter  look  at  my  Rose. 


52 


COME  ALONG,  MISS  NANCY 

OH,  Nancy  Ann  is  hard  to  beat — 

Come  along,  Miss  Nancy! 
Shuffle  right  along  an'  twis'  yo'  feet — 

Come  along,  Miss  Nancy! 
She  wears  number  'leven,  but  it  fits  'er  neat, 
An'  'er  mouf  is  a  rose  an'  *er  lips  as  sweet 
As  de  sugar-cane  juice  when  it  turns  to  cuite — 
Come  along,  Miss  Nancy! 
Oh,  Miss  Nancy, 

You's  my  fancy! 

You  is  de  neates' 
An'  de  fleetes' 

An'  de  sweetes' 
Gal  in  town! 

My  white  folks  is  rich  as  a  cup  o'  cream — 

Come  along,  Miss  Nancy! 
Dey  money  flows  out  in  a  silver  stream — 

Come  along,  Miss  Nancy! 
Dey'll  give  us  a  dance  eve'y  Sat'd'y  night, 
An'  a  boat  on  de  river  when  de  moon  is  bright, 
An'  you  won't  know  de  diffe'nce  but  what 
you's  white — 

53 


PLANTATION  SONGS 

Conie  along,  Miss  Nancy! 
Oh,  Miss  Nancy, 

You's  my  fancy! 

You  is  de  neates' 
An'  de  fleetes' 

An'  de  sweetes* 
Gal  in  town! 


TIGER-LILIES 

OH,  my  little  yaller  Lily  wid  de  freckles  'crost 

'er  nose, 
An'  'er  purty  yaller  ruffles  roim'  de  aidges 

of  'er  clo'es, 

She's  my  speckled  tiger-lily, 
An'  I  giggles  tell  I'm  silly 
When  she  nods  to  me  a-passin'  f 'om  de  win 
der  whar  she  sews. 

An'  I  looks  at  my  bare  foots,  an'  at  my  dirty 

gallus  strings, 
An'  I  knows  de  mules  is  waitin'  for  me  at  de 

cattle  springs, 

But  wild  horses  couldn't  hinder 
Me  from  buzzin'  to  her  winder, 
An'  a-sayin'  'bout  a  million  dozen  honey-softie 
things. 

You  may  talk  about  yo'  daisy,  you  may  brag 

about  yo'  rose, 
But  de  spotted  tiger-lily  is  de  sweetest  flower 

dat  grows. 
55 


PLANTATION  SOXGS 

All  de  yether  blooms  looks  jaded, 
An'  dey  colors  seems  all  faded, 
When  hit  kurtsies  to  de  gyarden  in  its  yaller 
furbelows. 

Ef  you  seen  my  Lily  standin'  on  'er  little  yal 
ler  toes 
Out  behin'   de   cedars   'mongst   de   tiger-lily 

rows, 

'Cep'n'  dat  de  gal  is  taller, 
An'  de  flowers'  bonnets  smaller, 
You  couldn't  designate  'er  when  she's  hangin' 
out  'er  clo'es. 

Once-t  I  called  her  "Tiger-Lily,"  des  to  see  de 

way  she'd  do, 
An'  she  up  an'  'spon',  "I  ain't  a  bit  mo'  yal- 

lerer  'n  you!" 

An'  wid  dat  she  sudsed  me  over, 
Den  she  rolled  me  in  de  clover. 
Oh,  she's  a  tiger  an'  a  lily,  an'  a  tiger-lily  too. 


56 


LUCINDY 

I 

WHEN  Lucindy's  eye  do  shine 
Lak  a  ripe,  ripe  muscadine, 

An'  'er  lips  sticks  out 

In  a  tantalizin'  pout, 
I  counts  Lucindy  mine. 

II 

When  she  droop  'er  eyes  so  shy, 
Lak  she  gwine  ter  pass  me  by, 
An'  des  afore  she  pass 
Drap  'er  hankcher  on  de  grass, 
My  courage  rises  high. 

in 

When  she  sets  up  in  de  choir, 
An'  'er  voice  mounts  higher  an'  higher, 
In  unisom  wid  Jim's, 
A-singin'  o'  de  hymns, 
I  sets  back  an'  puspire. 
57 


PLANTATION  SOXGS 

IT 

When  she  lean  down  on  'er  hoe, 
'N'  dig  de  san'  up  wid  'er  toe, 

An'  look  todes  me  an'  sigh, 
Des  lak  she  'mos'  could  cry, 
I  don't  know  whar  ter  go. 

v 

When  she  walk  right  down  de  aisle 
At  de  cake-walk  wid  a  smile, 

An'  she  an'  yaller  Jake 
Ketch  han's  an'  win  de  cake, 
I  steam  an'  sizz  an'  bile. 

YI 

While  she  claim  me  for  her  beau, 
An'  den  dance  de  reel  wid  Joe; 

An'  when  she  swing  me  by 
Squeeze  my  han'  on  de  sly — 
I  don'  know  whe'r  or  no. 

VII 

Tell  de  trufe,  Lucindy's  ways 
Gits  me  so  upsot  some  days 

Dat,  'cep'n  dat  I  knew 
Dat's  des  de  way  she  do, 
I'd  do  some  damage,  'caze 
58 


"Tell  do  tmfo,  Lucindy's  ways 
Gits  me  so  upsot  some  days — 


LUCINDY 

YIII 

Some  days  when  she  do  de  wus', 
Ef  'twarn't  dat  I  hates  a  fuss, 

An'  loves  'er  th'ough  an'  th'ough 
Wid  all  de  ways  she  do, 
De  least  I'd  dojd  be  cuss. 


61 


OH,  LOVE'S  MY  MEAT 

OH,  love's  my  meat,  oh,  love's  my  drink, 

Oh,  love's  my  daily  fare; 
Asleep,  awake,  forgit  or  think, 
I  breathes  it  in  the  air! 
Oh,  love, 
I  hear 

You  hummin'  'mongs'  de  bees! 
Oh,  love, 
I  hear 
You  singin'  in  de  trees! 

Oh,  love  an'  me  goes  hand  in  hand, 

When  I  got  a  hand  to  spare! 
A  loveless  life's  a  sinkin'  sand, 
A  drowndin'  soul's  despair. 
Olit  love, 
I  hear 

You  hummin'  'mongs'  de  bees! 
Oh,  love, 
I  hear 

You  singin'  in  de  trees! 
62 


OH,  LOVE'S  MY  MEAT 

Love  made  St.  Peter  walk  de  sea, 

It  built  ol'  Noay's  ark, 
It  lit  de  stars  fer  you  an'  me 
To  squench  de  blindin'  dark. 
Oh,  love, 
I  see 

You  buzzin'  'mongs'  de  beesl 
Oh,  love, 
I  hear 
You  singin'  in  de  trees ! 


63 


WINNIE 

WHEN  Winnie  steps  out  o'  de  stable, 

You  nuver  would  know — less  you  knowed — 

Dat  she  had  been,  sence  she  was  able 

To  reach  on  tiptoe  to  de  table, 
De  biggest  humbugger  dat  growed! 

When  she  warn't  no  bigger'n  a  minute, 

I  f ollered  'er  roun'  like  a  pup ; 
We'd  sneak  to  de  creek  an'  wade  in  it — 
She'd  tuck  up  'er  frock  an'  I'd  pin  it — 

An'  dat's  des  de  way  we  growed  up. 

One  day  when  she  tromped  on  a  briar, 
'Way  down  by  de  gin-wagon  track, 

I  stepped  in  de  bramble  right  by  'er, 

Wid  my  foots  a-stingin'  like  fire, 
An'  toted  'er  home  on  my  back. 

Of  co'se,  I  wras  des  like  'er  brother — 

I'm  fetchin'  dis  up  des  for  proofs — 
We  could  o'  sot  down  close  together 
An'  pulled  out  de  thorns  for  each  other, 
Excep'n'  n'air  one  had  front  toofs. 
64 


WINNIE 

An'  so  she  belt  on  ter  my  shoulder, 

An'  talked  'er  sweet  talk  in  my  ear: 
Let  on  dat  she  liked  me  to  hoi'  'er, 
An'  all  sech  as  dat,  tell  I  tol'  'er- 
Well,  'tain't  no  use  tellin'  it  here. 


But  when  we  got  down  ter  de  open, 

Instid  o'  me  cross-cuttin'  short, 
I  tuck  de  long  road,  an'  it  slopin', 
An'  limped  all  de  way,  des  a-hopin' 
She'd  'preshuate  me  like  she  ought. 


But  after  me  packin'  'er  keerful, 

An'  settin'  'er  down  at  'er  do', 
Instid  o'  her  thankin'  me  cheerful, 
De  way  she  cut  up  was  des  fearful. 
She  slid  f 'om  my  back  to  de  flo', 


An'  'fo'  I  could  gether  my  senses 
Dat  gal  she  was  dancin'  a  jig; 

She  des  liad  been  makin'  pertences! 

An'  here  I  had  dumb  over  fences 
Wid  her — an'  she  weighed  like  a  pig. 
65 


PLAXTATIOX  SOXGS 

Of  co'se  dis  was  whilst  we  was  chillen, 

But  when  we  growed  up  it  was  wuss; 
De  way  she'd  pervoke  me  was  killing 
Tell  sometimes  I'd  feel  like  a  villain, 
An',  Lord,  but  I'd  in'ardly  cuss! 


She'd  ax  me  to  tote  'er  pail  for  'er, 

An'  walk  by  my  side,  an'  she'd  laugh, 
An'  tell  me  some  joy  or  some  sorrer 
Dat  fretted  'er  min'.     Den  to-morrer 
She'd  git  me  ter  hoi'  off  de  calf 


Whilst  Pete,  a  big  boy  dat  I  hated, 

Would  come  an'  stan'  dost  by  'er  side 
An'  stiddy  de  cow,  while  I  waited 
'Way  off  'crost  de  yard,  so  frustrated 
Dat  some  days  I  purty  nigh  cried. 


Dey  wasn't  no  principle  in  'er, 

Come  down  ter  sech  doin's  as  dat, 
'Caze  Pete  was  a  miser'ble  sinner, 
An'  'cep'  I  was  littler  an'  thinner, 
Some  days  I'd  o'  laid  'im  out  flat! 
G6 


WINNIE 

Well,  sir,  dat's  de  way  Winnie  acted — 

She  fooled  me  straight  th'ough  all  my  life; 
An'  when  she  had  got  me  clair  'stracteA, 
Tell  /  run  at  Pete,  an'  got  whackted, 

She  turned  roun',  an' — well,  she's  my  wife. 


L  ENVOI 


My  'spe'unce  wid  Peter  was  bitter, 

But  sometimes  it  pays  ter  git  hit; 
'Caze  Winnie's  a  curious  critter, 
An'  'cep'  I  had  resked  all  ter  git  Jer, 
I'd  be  holdin'  off  de  calf  yit. 


67 


WASHERWOMAN'S  HYMN 
"THE  LORD  WALKED  IN  THE  GARDEN" 

HE  walked  in  de  gyarden  in  de  cool  o'  de  day — 

0  Lord,  whar  kin  dat  gyarden  be  ? 
I'd  turn  my  weary  foots  dat  way 

An*  pray  Thee  cool  de  day  for  me. 
Lord,  Lord,  walkin  in  de  gyarden, 

Open  de  gate  to  me! 
Td  nuver  be  afeard  o3  de  ftamin3  sword, 

Ef  I  could  walk  wi  Thee. 

He  walked  in  de  gyarden  in  de  cool  o'  de  day ; 

He  sa'ntered  'mongs'  de  shrubbery; 
He  nuver  turned  aroun'  to  look  dat  way — 

1  wusht  He'd  watched  dat  apple-tree. 
Lord,  Lord,  trouble  in  de  gyarden! 

Ev3-ry-bod-y  knows 
Dat  sins  begins  md  needles  an'  pins 
An'  de  scan'lous  need  o3  clo3es. 

He  walked  in  de  gyarden  in  de  cool  o'  de  day — 
My  bleachin'-grass  ain't  fittin'  for  Thee; 

But  dat  Bible  gyarden's  so  far  away, 
So,  Lord,  come  bless  my  fiel'  for  me! 
68 


WASHERWOMAN'S  HYMN 

Lord,  Lord,  come  into  my  gyarden! 

Ev'-ry-bod-y  knows 

How  Eve's  mistake  when  she  listened  to  de 
snake 

Still  keeps  me  washin'  clo'es. 

He  walked  in  de  gyarden  in  de  cool  o'  de  day — 

Ef  I  could  stand  an'  see  Him  pass, 
Wid  de  eye  o'  faith,  as  de  Scripture  saith, 

I'd  shout  heah  on  my  bleachin'-grass. 
Lord,  Lord,  my  little  gyarden 

Ain't  no  place  for  Thee; 
But  come  an'  shine  wid  a  light  divine 
An'  fix  my  faith  for  me! 

Glo-ry,  glory,  hallelujah! 
Peter,  James,  an'  John, 
Behol'  de  Light — an  de  raiment  whitet 
Yo'  visiom  's  passin  on! 


69 


DE  STAR  IN  DE  EAST 

DEY'S  a  star  in  de  eas',  on  a  Chris'mas  morn, 

Rise  up,  shepherd,  an'  f oiler! 
Hit'll  lead  yer  to  de  place  whar  de  Savior's 

born, 

Rise  up,  shepherd,  an'  f  oiler! 
Ef  you  tek  good  heed  to  de  angel's  words, 
You'll  forgit  yo'  flocks  an'  forgit  yo'  herds, 
An'  rise  up,  shepherd,  an'  f  oiler! 
Leave  yo'  sheep,  an' 
Leave  yo'  lamb,  an' 
Leave  yo'  ewe,  an' 
Leave  yo'  ram,  an' 

Rise  up,  shepherd,  an'  f  oiler! 
Foller,  foller,  foller,  foller, 
Rise,  O  sinner,  rise  an'  foller, 
Foller  de  star 
F'om  near  an'  far — 
Foller  de  star  o'  Bethlehem! 

Oh,  dat  star  still  shines  dis  Chris'mus  day, 

Rise,  O  sinner,  an'  foller! 
Wid  'n'  eye  o'  faith  you  can  see  its  ray, 

Rise,  O  sinner,  an'  foller! 
70 


DE  STAR  IN  DE  EAST 

Hit'll  light  yo'  way  th'ough  de  fields  o'  fros' 
By  way  o'  de  stable  to  de  shinin'  Cross. 

Rise,  O  sinner,  rise  an'  f oiler! 
Leave  yo'  father, 
Leave  yo'  mother,  v 

Leave  yo'  sister, 
Leave  yo'  brother, 

An'  rise,  O  sinner,  an'  f  oiler! 
Foller,  foller,  foller,  foller, 
Rise,  O  sinner,  rise  an'  foller, 
Foller  de  star 
F'om  near  an'  far — 
Foller  de  star  o'  Bethlehem! 


71 


OH,  SHOUTIN'S  MIGHTY  SWEET 
PLANTATION  PARTIXG  HYMN 

OH,  shoutin's  mighty  sweet 

When  yer  shout  when  yer  meet, 
An'  shek  han's  roun',  an'  say: 

"Bless  Gord  fur  de  meetin'! 

Bless  Gord  fur  de  greetin'!" 
Shoutin'  comes  mighty  easy  dat  a-way. 

But  ter  shout  when  yer  part, 

An'  ter  shout  f  om  yo'  heart, 
When  yer  gwine  far  away,  far  away, 

Wid  a  lettin'  go  han's 

An'  a-facin'  strange  lan's, 
Shoutin'  comes  mighty  hard  sech  a  day. 

"Glory"  sticks  in  yo'  th'oat 

At  de  whistle  o'  de  boat, 
Dat  cuts  lak  a  knife  thoo  yo'  heart; 

An'  "Hallelujah"  breaks 

At  de  raisin'  o'  de  stakes 
Dat  loosens  up  de  ropes  ter  let  'er  start. 

72 


OH,  SHOUTIN'S  MIGHTY  SWEET 

But  ef  yer  fix  yo'  eye 

On  de  writin'  in  de  sky, 
Whar  de  far'wells  is  all  strucken  out, 

An'  read  de  prormus  clair 

Of  another  geth'rin'  there, 
You  kin  say  f  ar'well,  my  brothers,  with  a  shout. 

Den  shout,  brothers,  shout! 

Oh,  tell  yo'  vict'ry  out, 
How  neither  death  nur  partin'  kin  undo  yer. 

Look  fust  at  yo'  loss, 

But  last  at  de  Cross, 
Singin'  glory,  glory,  glory  hallelujahl 


73 


VOICES 

I  RECKON  I  is,  lak  you  say,  sir, 
Pa'lized  an'  half  'stracted  an'  Win', 

An'  maybe  de  voice  dat  I  hear  is 
De  win'  when  it  comes  thoo  de  pine. 

I  can't  'spute  no  white  pusson's  knowledge, 
I  don't  know  de  hows  nor  de  whys, 

An'  when  I  hears  heavenly  voices, 

Dat  seem  like  dey  comes  f 'om  de  skies, 

I  don't  fret  myself  wid  book  questions, 
But  listens  ter  ketch  eve'y  note, 

An'  ef  a  bird  plays  me  harp  music, 
Don't  s'picion  de  shape  of  'is  th'oat. 

De  katydid,  close-t  to  my  shoulder, 
I  knows  he  des  saws  wid  'is  wings, 

But  when  de  Lord  sends  'im  ter  cheer  me, 
He  sets  in  de  vines  an'  he  sings! 

He  sings  songs  I  half  disremember, 

An'  all  o'  mammy's  ol'  hymns 
She  used  ter  hum  whiles  she  was  washin' 

Right  onder  deze  same  ol'  tree  limbs. 
74 


VOICES 

An'  even  de  brook  dat's  all  dried  up, 

Dat  used  ter  run  down  f'om  de  springs, 

De  katydid  mixes  its  tricklin' 

Right  in  wid  de  songs  mammy  sings, 

An'  often  she'll  stop  in  a  measure, 
An'  I'll  hear  'er  dip  down  'er  clo'es, 

An'  wring  'em  an'  bat  'em  an'  rench  'em — 
All  keepin'  good  time  as  she  goes. 

Yas,  I  knows  de  katydid's  music 
Ain't  no  mo'n  shufflin'  o'  feet, 

But  dat  nuver  hindered  'im  learnin' 
To  sing  other  folks's  songs  sweet. 

Dis  ol'  pine-tree  over  my  cabin 

Dat's  growed  th'ough  a  hole  in  de  shed, 

I  knows  it's  all  blighted  an'  knotted, 
An'  half  of  its  needles  is  dead. 


I  know  whar  de  thunder-bolt  struck  it 
Its  heart  is  split  open  an'  bare, 

An'  folks  say  de  spiders  is  tuck  it 

An'  swung  dey  gray  webs  ever'where. 
75 


PLAXTATIOX  SOXGS 

But  when  de  night  win'  passes  th'ough  it, 
An'  all  de  plantation's  asleep, 

Hit  sings  me  some  heavenly  promise 
To  'mind  me  I'm  in  de  Lord's  keep. 

Dey  ain't  a  dry  twig  or  a  needle 
But  sings  its  purtikilar  note. 

An'  even  de  holler  dat's  hlasted 
Seem  like  it  turns  inter  a  th'oat. 

Yas,  I  knows  I's  pa'lized  an'  blinded, 
An'  half  'stracted,  des  lak  you  say, 

An'  co'se  I  ain't  got  education! 
To  splain  all  my  comforts  away. 

So  when  a  ol'  bumble-bee  fetches 
Some  story  'bout  when  I  was  young, 

Dat  I  done  forgot,  'cep'  in  snatches — 
I  don't  make  'im  show  me  'is  tongue. 

I  don't  ax  no  impident  questions; 

Jes  listens  ter  ketch  eve'y  note, 
An'  when  a  bird  sings  me  harp  music, 

Don't  s'picion  de  shape  of  'is  th'oat. 


76 


O  MY  SOUL,  YOU  MUS'  BE  WALKIN'   IN  YO' 
SLEEP 


O  MY  soul,  you  mus'  be  walkin'  in  yo'  sleep, 
'Gaze  you  nuver  seems  to  heed  de  danger 

lines; 
When  you  skirts  de  verges  whar  de  water's 

deep, 
An'  you  leads  my  foots  to  thorns  an'  tangled 

vines — 
Yas,  I's  feared  you  sho  is  walkin'  in  yo'  sleep. 

Walkin',  walkin' — gropin',  gropin' — 
Gropin'  in  yo'  sleep ; 

O  my  soul,  I's  hopin',  hopin' 
Dat  you'll  wake  befo'  you  stumble  in  yo'  sleep. 


O  my  soul,  you  mus'  be  walkin'  in  yo'  sleep, 
Or  you  wouldn't  dast  to  stray  so  fur  from 

home, 

Whar  de  gurglin'  laugh  and  playin'  fountains 
leap 

77 


PLANTATION  SONGS 

Tel  de  conscience-call  is   drownded  in  de 

foam. 
Better  quit  dis  rackless  strayin'  in  yo'  sleep! 

Walkin',  laughin' — laughin',  gropin' — 
Gropin'  in  yo'  sleep ; 

O  my  laughin'  soul,  I's  hopin' 
Dat  yo5  laugh  won't  turn  to  weepin'  in  yo' 
sleep. 

O  my  soul,  you  mus'  be  walkin'  in  yo'  sleep 

'Les'  you'd  reco'nize  de  tempter  by  yo'  side 
Wid  de  sugar  tongue  an'  swishin'  flounces' 
sweep — 

Look  ag'in,  my  soul,  bef o'  you  take  a  bride ! 
O  my  soul,  you  better  wake  up  f '  om  yo'  sleep. 

Walkin',  walkin' — gropin',  gropin' — 
Gropin'  in  yo'  sleep; 

O  my  blinded  soul,  I's  hopin' 
Dat  you'll  reco'nize  yo'  danger  in  yo'  sleep. 

Yas,  you  better  wake,  my  soul,  wake  f 'om  yo' 

sleep, 

'Fo'  you  signs  away  yo'  freedom  in  a  dream ; 
Rub  yo'  eyes  an'  look — Oh,  look  befo'  you 

leap! 

An'  beware  de  pleasu'e  boats  on  Jordan's 
stream! 

78 


O  MY  SOUL 

Wake,  my  soul,  an'  stop  yo'  walkin'  in  yo' 
sleep ; 

Gropin',  walkin' — walkin',  gropin' — 
In  de  dark  o'  sleep; 

Soon  you'll  wake,  I's  hopin',  hopin', 
'Caze  it's  mighty  dang'ous  walkin'  in  yo'  sleep. 


OH,  DE  LORD,  HE  WALKED  DE  WATERS 

OH,  de  Lord,  He  walked  de  waters — oh,  de 

Lord,  He  trod  de  sea- 
Be  still,  ye  waves,  be  still! 
Ol'  Peter  tried  to  foller,  but  his  faith  was  weak 

o'  knee — 
Be  still,  ye  waves,  be  still! 

Be  still— be  still- 
Oh,  surgin'  tide,  be  still! 
Though  yo'  heart  is  troubled  waters  an'  yo' 

soul,  it  is  a  sea; 
Be  still— be  still, 
An'  fear  no  storm  or  ill, 
An'  de  feet  dat  ca'med  de  sea  will  bless  de 
waves  o'  life  for  thee. 

Oh,  de  Savior  healed  de  blind  an'  tol'  de  rich 

man  'Toiler  Me"- 
Be  still,  my  heart,  be  still; 
An'  oF  Zachaeus,  he  watched  'Im  f 'om  a  syca- 

mory  tree- 
Be  still,  my  heart,  be  still; 
80 


HE  WALKED  DE  WATERS 

Be  still— be  still— 
Oh,  doubtin'  soul,  be  still; 
Plenty  trees  of  observation  on  de  way  to 

Jericho — 
Be  still— be  still— 
Cas'  yo'  eyes  above  de  hill; 
An'  de  Savior '11  see  you  watchin'  an'  He'll 
call  to  you,  I  know. 

Be  stiU— be  still- 
Oh,  surgin'  life,  be  still, 
For  yo'  heart  is  troubled  waters  an'  yo'  soul, 

it  is  a  sea; 
Be  still— be  still— 
An'  fear  no  storm  or  ill, 
Let  de  feet  dat  blessed  de  ocean  ca'm  de 
waves  o'  life  fer  thee. 


81 


OH,  HEABEN'S  MIGHTY  CLOSE 

OH,  Heaben's  mighty  close, 

Yas,  close,  yas,  close, 
Ef  you  got  a  yeah  to  listen 

To  de  hos',  to  de  hos', 
Ef  you  got  a  yeah  to  listen  to  de  sto-ry! 

Oh,  Heaben's  mighty  nigh, 

Yas,  nigh,  yas,  nigh, 
Ef  you  got  a'  eye  fer  visions 

In  de  sky,  in  de  sky, 
Ef  you  got  a'  eye  fer  visions  o'  de  glo-ry! 


82 


SONGS  OF  LIFE  AND  LOVE 


THE  SEA  OF  PEACE 

I  STAND  above  a  white-rimmed  sea: 
Its  deeps  are  mine,  its  mirrored  height; 

Mine  its  low  plaint  of  mystery, 
All  mine  its  glee-song  of  delight. 

Mine  its  strong  soul;  its  body  mine; 

I  lave  me  in  its  kind  embrace; 
In  dreams  upon  its  buoyant  brine 

It  gives  me  back  a  cherished  face. 

Mayhap  it  helps  me  understand 

The  language  of  infinity, 
The  secret  of  the  shifting  sand, 

The  testimony  of  the  sea. 

I  am  above  all  circumstance, 
I  am  beyond  all  power  to  hurt ; 

No  more  I  shrink  from  sorrow's  lance 
So  with  all  strength  am  I  begirt. 
85 


SOXGS  OF  LIFE  AXD  LOVE 

I've  tasted  of  the  bitter  sup; 

Earth's  bulwarks  all  are  proven  frail; 
Yet  sweetened  now  is  life's  low  cup, 

All  hallowed:  'tis  my  Holy  Grail. 

Above  its  wrecks  of  ships  and  men 
The  placid  ocean  shows  no  scars; 

Above  my  deeps  where  storms  have  been 
My  tranquil  soul  reflects  the  stars. 


CONSECRATION 

WERE  I  a  crevice  in  a  crumbling  wall, 

Mayhap  some  bird  would  let  me  hold  her 

nest ; 

O  blessed  consciousness  of  home  and  rest ! 
I'd  feel  the  throbbing  of  her  tender  breast 

And  hear  her  answer  to  her  fond  mate's  call. 

Or,  failing  this,  I'd  be  the  empty  space; 
'Twere  better  than  a  fullness  less  than  best, 
And  reverent  longing  for  a  homeless  guest 
Would  fill  me,  till  my  emptiness  were  blest: 

Where  welcome  waits  is  ne'er  a  cheerless  place. 

To  be  the  darkness  when  the  lamp  is  out — 
To  free  tired  eyes  from  tyranny  of  light 
Which  limits  them  to  trivial  things  in  sight — 
To  hold  the  kiss  of  Love  and  know  no 
fright — 

O  blessed  darkness,  thou  art  Love's  redoubt! 

I'd  be  the  dark,  earth's  confidence  to  own; 
The  venerable  darkness,  first  to  hear 
87 


SOXGS  OF  LIFE  AND  LOVE 

God's  spoken  word,  and,  trembling,  disap 
pear; 

The  first  His  clemency  to  know — to  wear, 
In   equal   reign   with   light,    a    star-gemmed 
crown. 

I'd  be  the  silence,  rather  than  the  song— 
The  stillness  which  abides  when  it  is  sung ; 
And,  better  than  the  sun,  its  moons  among, 
I'd  be  the  azure  space  in  which  are  flung 

All  constellations  which  to  God  belong. 

I'd  be  that  last  abstraction  which  abides, 
Diffused,  invisible,  through  time  and  space— 
Which  thinks  the  roses — holds  the  stars  in 

place— 
Which  shines  in  radiance  from  a  mother's 

face, 
And,  shy  as  opal  flame,  illumes  the  bride's. 

I'd  be  the  stir  of  life  within  the  clod 

When  it  conceives  the  image  of  a  flower; 
I'd  be  the  throbbing  secret  of  the  bower ; 
Yes,    I'd    be    Love — my    nothingness    all 

power; 

But,  wait!     How  dare  one  say,  "I  would  be 
GOD!" 

88 


ALLEGIANCE 

To  be  a  broken  promise?  Hideous  thing! 
Yet  who  am  I  to  all  God's  ethics  know? 
If  grandsires  promised  for  me  aeons  ago 
That  I  should  quibble  thus  or  simper  so, 

As  broken  pledge  I  fain  would  meet  my  king. 

I'd  e'en  disown  the  vow  myself  had  made, 
If  yesterday  I  let  the  tempter  in 
And  he  and  I  a  compact  did  begin 
Committing  this  frail  vessel  unto  sin — 

I'd  be  that  pledge's  forfeit,  undismayed.  • 

For  I  am  not  mine  own,  but  hold  in  trust 
Myself,  slight  emanation  of  high  God, 
And  though  my  human  guardianship  may 

nod, 
Till  conscience  wakes  it  with  a  sharpened 

prod, 
I  render  Heaven  its  own,  because  I  must. 


89 


DISARMAMENT 

FAINT  doubters  of  Life's  brooding  constancy, 
Lay  reverent  ears  against  the  heart  of  her 
In  joyous  Springtime — when  her  soul's 
astir 

With  vestal  tremors  o'er  the  mystery. 

List  her  maternal  throb,  ye  carping  host, 
In  Summer  drowse  and  languor,  while  the 

blaze 
Of  sun  returned  in  daisies  stars  the  haze 

Foreboding  Autumn's  titillating  frost. 

Mark  ye  her  bounding  pulse  when  Winter's 

blades 

Come  charging  for  her  heart — to  find  it  fire, 
And  all  his  swTords  are  melted  in  desire, 

Safe  in  Life's  holy  hibernating  shades. 

Awaiting  thus  the  resurrection  morn 
Of  Spring  again  with  age-long  surety, 
Neath  Winter's  truce,  in  all  security— 

So  cycling  immortality  is  born. 

90 


DISARMAMENT 

What  fires  lie  hidden  in  the  heart  of  Life 
Be  they  not  lit  of  God,  Himself  to  prove, 
Be  they  not  dross-consuming  fires  of  Love? 

'Tis  fire  divine  must  fuse  the  swords  of  strife. 

O  heart  of  man,  invite  the  enemy 
But  to  disarm  him  with  Love's  holy  flame, 
Forever  putting  enmity  to  shame, 

And  ye  remain  as  brothers,  thou  and  he! 


91 


BEWARE  THE  LEAVEN 

EXTREME  abasement  oft  is  vanity; 

"Tis  conscious  selfhood  begs  to  be  effaced; 
Proud  ego  would  be  formally  erased, 
As  if  it  mattered  how  were  atoms  placed. 

Beware  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisee. 

Better  the  field  at  sunrise  and  the  plow; 
By  earth  and  sky  both  arm  and  courage 

nerved; 
The  day's  rewards  were  aye  to  him  who 

served, 

And  bread  precarious  to  such  as  swerved. 
Man's  royal  gems  are  sweat-beads  on  his  brow. 


92 


MARY 

To  Judah's  maid  an  angel  came : 

Prepare,  dear  heart,  prepare. 
When  the  angel  came  to  the  little  maid, 
And  she  heard  his  voice,  she  was  sore  afraid 
At  the  sorrowful,  beautiful  words  that  he  said 

"O  Mary,  maid,  prepare." 

Maid  Mary  waits  at  the  stable  door; 

Prepare,  dear  Lord,  prepare 
A  little  bed  for  Thy  maid  to  rest, 
For  she  stands  without  by  Thy  strange  be 
hest — 
Begs  but  a  place  to  lay  Thy  guest — 

For  Mary,  Lord,  prepare. 

A  mother-maid  lies  white  within, 

God's  circle  round  her  hair. 
Dumb  kneeling  brutes  the  wonder  see; 
A  star  attests  the  mystery, 
While  sage  and  shepherd  reverently 

Bring  praise  and  incense  rare. 
93 


SONGS  OF  LIFE  AND  LOVE 

A  virgin-mother-queen's  in  state, 

Her  ermine  robe  her  hair. 
The  stable  dim  a  palace  is; 
Its  moss-rimmed  troughs  are  chalices; 
There  lips  whereon  no  malice  is 

Drink  to  the  royal  heir. 


BETHLEHEM 

OH,  Bethlehem,  starred  Bethlehem, 
Bright  with  the  coronation  gem 
Upon  thy  brow  through  history, 
Whose  eyes  have  seen  the  mystery, 
Hail  brow  and  eyes  and  diadem — 
Hail,  Bethlehem! 

Dear  Bethlehem,  old  Bethlehem, 
'Twas  thine  the  tide  of  time  to  stem. 
The  world  was  tired;  its  grizzled  folk, 
Hope- weary,  heard  the  centuries'  stroke, 
When  cry  of  birth  arrested  them 
From  Bethlehem. 

Hence,  Bethlehem,  young  Bethlehem, 
Thine  ancient  days  thou  mayst  contemn 
While  all  the  cycles  since  engage 
To  celebrate  thy  youthful  age. 
Earth's  years  are  young;  she  counteth  them 
From  Bethlehem. 

Oh,  Bethlehem,  Queen  Bethlehem, 
Of  hallowed  lap  and  diadem, 

95 


SONGS  OF  LIFE  AND  LOVE 

Thy  Kohinoor,  it  is  a  star; 
Thy  hands  are  white  as  lilies  are; 
Thy  song  is  sorrow's  requiem, 
Queen  Bethlehem. 


96 


THE  GENTLING  YEARS 

ALL  my  days  I  will  go  softly,  softly  down  the 

homeward  slope, 
Crimson  certitudes  of  childhood  tempered  now 

to  amber  hope 

Shining  through  the  seaward  gate, 
While  the  kindly  winds  are  blowing 
And  the  gentling  years  come  snowing — 
Snowing  on  my  willing  pate. 

Faith  in  life  and  faith  in  loving — faith  in  des 
tiny  supreme, 
Led  my  soul  through  dreary  marshes,  as  a  star 

seen  in  a  dream 

Brightened  through  its  dim  estate; 
Precious  star  still  clearly  glowring 
Though  gray  gentling  years  are  snow 
ing— 
Snowing  on  my  bended  pate. 

What  would  life  be  but  for  dreaming,  with  a 
faith-star  e'er  in  sight? 

Think  of  naught  beyond  its  stillness  of  a  some 
times  starless  night, 
97 


SOXGS  OF  LIFE  AND  LOVE 

In  the  awful  calm  of  fate! 
So  I  praise  the  fitful  blowing 
Of  the  gentling  years  which,  snowing, 

Bid  my  eager  spirit  wait. 

And  I  bear  their  truce  to  battle — truce  to  sor 
row  and  despair, 
Silent  gift  of  winds  and  weather — conquerors 

of  my  rebel  hair- 
As  I  near  the  little  gate; 
In  my  face  cool  sea-spray  blowing 
Through    pale     gentling    years    which, 

snowing, 
Lay  white  hands  to  bless  my  pate. 

L'EXVOI 
If  my  soul  be  white  as  snow  is,  clear  as  light 

my  spirit's  ray, 
When  at  last  it  strikes  the  prism  of  the  ocean, 

on  its  way 

Through  the  gate  against  the  sea, 
Voila!  Colors  for  my  sailing! 
Rainbow  stripes  o'er  stars  prevailing; 
Who  says  death  shall  conquer  me! 


08 


SITTING  BLIND  BY  THE  SEA 

OH,  sing  me  a  song  of  the  sea,  my  son — 

Oh,  sing  me  a  song  of  the  sea! 
For  my  eyes  they  are  blind  and  I  peer  in  the 

dark, 
But  my  man-heart  leaps  when  the  sea-dogs 

bark ; 

Can  thy  young  eyes  follow  the  yelping  pack? 
Wild,  bounding  streaks  of  yellow  and  black, 
Do  they  track  over  meadows  of  seething  foam? 
And  will  they  be  fetching  the  white  gulls 

home? 

Mayhap  they'll  retrieve  one  to  me — 
To  me,  sitting  blind  by  the  sea. 

To  me  in  my  door  by  the  sea,  sitting  blind, 

To  me,  sitting  blind  in  my  door, 
Days  be  when  a  battle  is  raging  afar, 
And  the  tramp  of  the  cavalry  crossing  the  bar 
Comes  nearer  and  clearer  with  many  a  gun, 
So  plain  to  my  ears  while  I  sit  in  the  sun 
7  99 


SONGS  OF  LIFE  AND  LOVE 

That  I'm  sure  there'll  be  many  a  rainbow  at 

play 
In  and  out  of  the  manes  and  the  tails  of  the 

spray, 

As  the  chargers  plunge  down  in  the  roar 
To  me,  sitting  blind  in  my  door. 

To  me,  sitting  blind  in  the  night  by  the  sea, 

Sitting  blind  by  the  sea  in  the  night, 
Times  be  when  she  purrs,  a  gray  cat,  at  my 

knee — 
Oh,  the  glow  on  the  hearth  and  the  mother 

and  thee ! 

'Twas  a  hitch  in  her  rocker  that  memory  kept, 
And  I'd  know  when  it  eased  that  our  wee  lad 
die  slept. 

The  sea  has  it  all,  to  the  creak  in  her  chair, 
And  I,  peering  blind,  see  the  glint  in  her  hair; 
And  it  floods  my  lone  soul  with  delight, 
Sitting  dark  in  my  door  in  the  night. 

To  me,  sitting  dark  by  the  sea  in  my  door, 

To  me,  by  the  sea  sitting  blind, 
Rare  times  comes  a  silence  as  still  as  a  cave, 
And  I  know  'tis  His  night  when  He  walks  on 
the  wave; 

100 


SITTING  BLIND  BY  TUE  SEA 

And,  "strong  in  the  faith,"  with  my  feet  on  the 

land, 
My  soul  speeds  beside  Him.     I'd  strive  for 

His  hand 

To  lay  on  my  eyes,  but  ah!  ever  before 
I  reach  Him,  He's  gone — and  I  back  in  my 

door, 

All  alone,  by  a  whiff  of  the  wind, 
In  my  door  by  the  sea,  sitting  blind. 

Still  it's  sing  me  a  song  of  the  sea,  my  son — 

Oh,  sing  me  a  song  of  the  sea! 
And  sorrow's  slow  leaven  I'll  nurse  nevermore, 
For  the  soul  of  the  sea  signals  mine  on  the 

shore, 

Deep  calling  to  deep,  high  answering  high, 
Till  my  bosom,  like  Ocean's,  is  gemmed  with 

the  sky; 
And  when  the  moon  comes — crown  pearl  of 

Night's  crest, 
Thy  mother's  white  soul  lies   again  on  my 

breast; 

And  with  this  Decoration — and  thee — 
I  am  knighted  and  rich  by  the  sea. 


101 


COMPANIONSHIP 

BESIDE  a  winter  sea  I  held  her  hand ; 
The  sun,  low  sunken  in  a  molten  glare, 
Revealed  a  flitting  radiance  in  her  hair 
When  darkness  fell;  then  turned  we  to  the 

land; 

Reluctantly  we  climbed  the  oozing  sand 
With  tightened  grasp,  and,  loving,  scorned 

to  care 
That  moaning  waves'  complaining  stilled  us 

there 
Against  the  din  of  earth's  incessant  band. 

O  vast  eternity,  thou  roaring  sea 

Which  through  both  day  and  darkness  call- 

est  on— 
O  noisy  time  which  babblest  constantly 

In  earthly  clamorings  from  sun  to  sun— 
What  if,  hushed  by  ye  twain,  they  silenced  be, 

If  two  may  fare  together — walk  as  one? 


102 


APRIL  DREAMING 

IMPULSE  of  violets  wakes  the  air 

In  vestal  shade  where  dozes 
On  down  of  mist  miladi  fair, 
And  when  shy  sunbeams  gem  her  hair 
She  smiles  into  the  rainbow  there; 

'Tis  April,  dreaming  roses. 

Bright  wings  of  unborn  butterflies 

And  leaves  of  daffodillies 
Drift  gaily  through  her  dreamland  skies, 
While  dim  and  white  and  angelwise, 
On  filmy  moon-wings  float  and  rise 

The  souls  of  Easter  lilies. 


103 


THE  BLUE 

MY  childhood  eyes 
Loved  flecked  skies 

With  fancy-varied  scenes, 
Where  vision  clear 
Or  far  or  near 

Surveyed  Hope's  fair  demesnes. 

In  womanhood 
When  life  was  good, 

Its  round  horizon  "ours," 
We  loved,  we  two, 
The  steadfast  blue; 

Our  knees  were  'mongst  the  flowers. 

So,  God  of  light, 
When  looming  night 

Impairs  my  lonely  view, 
Take  Thou  away 
My  sense  of  gray 
But  spare  my  starlit  blue. 

104 


SERVICE 

To  be  a  knot  upon  a  fallen  log 

Were  no  mean  thing,  if  my  slight  eminence 
Were  clad  in  green  for  some  poor  worm's 

defense ; 
Or,  I  might  be,  O  happy  recompense, 

A  sunny  isle  for  creatures  of  the  bog; 

The  timid  tortoise  would  essay  my  crown 
To  prison  glints  of  sunshine  in  his  shell, 
And  birds  the  world  calls  dumb  would  come 

and  tell, 
With  breasts  to  mine,  their  joys  and  sorrows 

fell, 
And  they  and  I  a  common  kinship  own. 


105 


THE  CYCLE 

I 
NATURE'S  RHYTHM 

IN  ebb  and  flow,  with  come  and  go, 

Incessant,  o'er  and  o'er, 
By  wave  and  tide,  as  man  a  bride, 

The  ocean  woos  the  shore. 

So  soft  caressed,  so  urged,  so  pressed, 

The  willing  sand  is  won 
To  Neptune's  bed;  the  twain  are  wred, 

And  continents  are  born. 

In  flash  of  fire,  flame-tongued  desire 

Takes  heaven  by  assault; 
One  lurid  breath,  then — is  it  death? 

Is  law  of  life  at  fault? 

Each  frenzied  flare  of  sentient  air, 

Ripe  for  this  fiery  kiss, 
Sends  teeming  waves  of  passion  slaves 

Down  destiny's  abyss. 
106 


THE  CYCLE 

Begot  of  flame  and  brides  sans  name, 
The  amorous  breeze  is  theirs 

Which  blows  your  curl,  O  heedless  girl, 
To  his,  who  waits  your  snares. 


Two  living  wires,  spiraled  desires — 

A  heedless  interlock — 
The  marvel's  done — the  "two  as  one" — 

Unhurried  ticks  Life's  clock. 

Its  pendulum,  with  slow  humdrum, 
Swinging  mid  grime  and  rust, 

A  thresher  is  of  destinies, 
In  grains  of  living  dust. 

There's  quickening  mold  in  mummy- fold; 

Not  e'er  our  "dead"  are  dead; 
We  free  in  clod  a  germ  of  God 

With  each  "destroying"  tread. 

So  goes  the  tide — a  man,  a  bride — 
In  heaven  'tis  sun  and  moon 

Which  alternate  to  re-create 
The  midnight  and  the  noon. 
107 


II 


THE  MOSAIC  LAW 
COMPENSATION 

What  saith  the  law,  in  formal  awe? 

"An  eye  for  an  eye — no  more 
Nor  less,  forsooth,  than  tooth  for  tooth"; 

Cool  justice  keeps  the  score. 

Praise  Father  God  who  quicked  the  clod, 
Praise  Mother  Earth,  for  birth, 

Man,  son  of  both,  and  nothing  loath, 
Seize  Heaven  with  holy  mirth. 

This  gift  divine,  thy  countersign, 

Is  e'en  a  royal  dole; 
Thou,  else,  as  sod,  by  "breath  of  God" 

A  living,  laughing  soul. 

Then  laugh,  oh,  laugh,  mirth's  chalice  quaff 

Thou  master  at  Life's  feast ; 
The  tinkling  cup  is  his  to  sup 

Who  dominates  the  beast. 
108 


THE  MOSAIC  LAW 

Yet  rue,  oh,  rue  the  balance  true, 

For  laughter  sways  to  tears ; 
High  hopes,  soul-born  in  man's  first  morn, 

Found  complement  in  fears. 

From  joy  to  pain,  from  boon  to  bane, 

From  youth  to  whitened  hair, 
The  swing's  the  same,  whate'er  its  name; 

Life's  gamut  all  is  there. 

Crawled,  in  the  wake  of  God,  the  snake 

In  Eden's  primal  dell; 
'Gainst  faith  all  fair  looms  black  despair; 

Even  Heaven  bespeaks  a  hell. 

So  saith  the  law,  in  formal  awe, 
"An  eye  for  an  eye — no  more 

Nor  less,  forsooth,  than  tooth  for  tooth"; 
For  justice  keeps  the  score. 


109 


Ill 

THE  GOSPEL 
EMANCIPATION 

Came  a  day  when  man  grew  weary — came  a 

day  when  man  complained : 
4 'How  long,  O  Lord,  how  long! 

Vestal-fair  our  souls  at  sunrise,  at  each  going 

down  are  stained; 
Are  battles  to  the  strong? 

Sitting  at  the  feet  of  Wisdom,  in  her  seven- 
pillared  hall, 

Hear  the  stranger-women  clamour  to  entice 
us  with  their  call 

To  the  groves  of  stolen  waters,  troubled  foun 
tains  and  corrupt; 

Lord,  how  dare  we  lift  our  voices,  when  with 

harlots  we  have  supped! 
A  dirge  must  be  our  song. 

'Wisdom's  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness 

and  all  her  paths  are  peace,' 
Yet  Life  is  dense  and  far; 
110 


THE  GOSPEL 

Can  we  rout  the  Philistines  or  gather  in  a  gol 
den  fleece 

In  fields  where  lilies  are? 
Grant  thy  people,  Lord,  a  vision,  lest  they 

perish  by  the  way, 
Weary  of  Life's  rocking  cradle,  day  for  night 

and  night  for  day;" 
He  who  sitteth  in  the  heavens,  Master  of  part 

of  life's  plan, 
Listened — loved — and  loving,  pitied:     'Cross 

man's  prayer  the  current  ran, 
And  flashed  in  Bethl'em's  star! 


Ill 


BROTHERHOOD 
I 

WHAT'S  become  of  the  Star  in  the  East? 

Has  battle-smoke  of  wars 
Obscured  its  beam  in  the  crown  of  night, 
While  doomed  men  in  red-darkness  fight 
(With  a  groping  sense  of  wrong  or  right) 
And  clench  and  die,  by  the  lurid  blight 

Of  the  bloody  eye  of  Mars? 

Where  are  the  reverent  Wise  Men  gone 
Who  followed  the  Bethlehem  star? 

Did  they  flee  in  fright  from  its  gleaming  road 

When  dim  at  its  end  the  dark  Cross  stood? 

Have  they  lost  their  way  in  the  bleak,  black 
wood? 

Have  they  ridden  to  hounds  and  tasted  blood? 
Are  the  Wise  Men  gone  to  war? 

Where  is  the  little  manger-bed 

Where  the  Prince  of  Peace  was  born? 
112 


BROTHERHOOD 

They  found  it  lost  in  slime  and  weeds, 
Where  pestilential  famine  breeds, 
And  they've  made  it  a  trough  where  the  war- 
horse  feeds, 

In  a  stable  "reclaimed  for  his  country's  needs," 
By  a  lord  of  war  and  scorn. 

Where  are  the  flames  of  prophecy, 

Lighted  at  Pentecost 

To  flash  Love's  word  through  every  tongue? 
In  conflict's  Babel,  all  unstrung, 
Are  theirs  the  alien  curses  flung 
Across  grim  battle-lines — which  rung 

As  taught  of  Holy  Ghost? 

Where's  sweet  Mother  Mary  now, 

Who  bided  last  at  the  Cross? 
Behold,  she  waits  as  she  waited  then, 
Her  soul  in  travail  of  birth  again, 
For  every  woman's  a  mother  of  men, 
And  each  her  son,  when  a  man  is  slain, 

Be  she  maid  in  her  vestal  floss. 

Where  are  the  angel  guards  who  said, 

"He  is  risen  from  the  tomb"? 
With  wings  adroop  and  joyance  fled, 
Low  on  his  breast  drops  each  his  head 

113 


SOXGS  OF  LIFE  AND  LOVE 

In  sorrow,  while  he  moans  instead, 
"Despair,  O  man,  thy  Lord  is  dead; 
His  grave  thy  final  doom"? 

Ah  no,  joy,  no!    Love's  star  still  gleams 

Above  Faith's  hostelry 
Where  God-in-man's  enshrined  for  aye; 
A  living  world  keeps  Easter  Day; 
Star-led,  come  wise  men  still  to  pay 
Rich  tribute  in  their  newer  way 

To  haloed  mystery. 

Anointing  thus  the  long-foretold, 

By  star  of  Love  enticed, 
Crowning  the  lowly  "newborn  son 
Of  humble  virgin,  stable-born," 
As  King — by  prophecies  forerun— 
Came  out  the  Wise  Men,  every  one 

Himself  a  healing  Christ. 

To  heal,  to  lift,  to  bind,  to  save — 

Ordained  to  ministry 
By  laying  on  of  infant  hand, 
Come  still  earth's  little  faithful  band 
Of  those  who  love  and  understand 
The  brotherhood  of  man — on  land 

And  sailing  every  sea. 
114 


BROTHERHOOD 

What  matter,  Teuton,  Slav,  or  Gaul, 

Or  Anglo- Anything, 
If  this,  their  watchword,  be  not  lost 
Through     tongues     confused     and     kinship 

glossed? 

Heaven  send  another  Pentecost, 
Till  BROTHERHOOD  all  tongues  has  crossed 

From  peasant  unto  king. 


H 

The  little  brother  to  the  Czar — 

The  serf  in  battle  slain, 
Conscripted  oft  without  his  will 
In  able  manhood — fit  to  kill— 
And  his  frail  comrade,  weak  and  ill, 
Retained  the  heavy  lands  to  till— 

Both  brand  their  king  as  Cain! 

If  first  and  best  are  sacrificed 

And  epileptics  thrive, 
Begetting  by  their  feeble  strain 
In  pale  successors  of  the  slain 
Whose  sons  within  their  loins  have  lain 
In  soldiers'  trenches — whence  again 

Will  virile  men  arrive? 
8  115 


SONGS  OF  LIFE  AND  LOVE 

Why  not  send  idiots  to  fight? 

Conscript  the  leper  camps? 
Wipe  out  the  White  Plague  on  the  field? 
Soldiers  of  courage  it  would  yield! 
Perhaps  our  murderers  might  be  healed 
By  overwork — and  kindly  shield 

From  prisons'  gloom  and  damps. 

If  kill  we  must,  let's  wisely  kill, 
Cast  out  the  world's  "unfit"; 
Force  paupers  to  "a  noble  chance 
To  win  renown,"  with  gun  and  lance; 
Insane  asylums  would  advance 
All  needed  generals — and  dance 
With  glee  of  doddering  wit! 

But  now's  no  time  for  cap  and  bells 

(Though  fools'  words  oft  are  good). 
Father  of  mercy,  grant  surcease 
Of  strife,  and  send  a  quick  release 
To  men  in  bonds  to  kings'  caprice; 
Let  all  earth's  travail  bring  forth  peace 
Conceived  in  BROTHERHOOD. 


116 


LIFE'S  ARRAIGNMENT 
LIFE'S  GENERAL  ARRAIGNMENT 

GRIM  god  of  carnage,  armed  with  spear  and 
shield, 

Craven  equipment,  this,  thy  godship  wears, 
Thou  whose  theatre  is  the  reddened  field 

Where  Tragedy  thy  comedies  prepares, 

List,    LIFE'S    ARRAIGNMENT,   whilst 

thy  crimes  it  bares! 

Call,  for  a  moment's  space,  thy  war-dogs  in 
While  fertile  fields  confront  thee  with  their 

tares 

And  Hunger  mocks  thee  with  her  bony 
grin! 

Let  widows,  orphans,  soilless  men  begin 

As  creditors  preferred  in  equity; 
Stalwart  young  souls  who  passed  in  smoke 

and  din 

Arise  as  astral  shades  to  challenge  thee! 
117 


SONGS  OF  LIFE  AND  LOVE 

BLACK-ROBED  WIDOWS  WITH  CHILDREN,  SOME  IN 
ARMS 

We,  thy  comedians'  widows,  wed  and  left 

With  these  to  rear,  some  e'en  to  bear  alone, 
That   thou   mightst   feast   and   laugh   at   us, 

bereft, 

The  father's  lightnings  blast  thee  on  thy 
throne 

Till  fallen  'neath  thy  bloody  star,  alone, 
Cursed  by  each  opal  of  the  milky  way, 

All  bane  be  thine  save  death  and  senseless 

bone! 
This  take  from  wronged  motherhood  at  bay! 


THE  DEAD 

We  are  the  dead,  thy  plantings  of  the  field; 

Above  the  din  of  guns  and  o'er  the  shout 
Of  Victory  thy  ribald  laughter  pealed; 

We  heard  its  mocking  while  our  souls  went 
out 

And  knew  ourselves  thy  fools  with  no  redoubt. 
Thou  callest  brave  men  to  an  easy  task, 
118 


LIFE'S  ARRAIGNMENT 

"To  die  for  Truth!"  Thy  sophistries  we  flout! 
And  know  thee  tyrant  through  thy  noble 
mask. 

"To  live  for  Truth!"   In  this  let  heroes  bask! 
To    offer    unto    Heaven    LIFE'S    battle- 
scars  ! 
"Hearts  broken?"     Aye,  and  bleeding  hands 

they'd  ask, 
With  heads  uncovered  underneath  the  stars. 

THIN  GRAY  WOMEN  WITH  WISTFUL  EYES 

We  are  thy  spinsters,  childless  and  unwed; 
Where    are    our    mates?      Our    sons    and 

daughters?     Say, 
Thou  monster  who  darest  rob  the  marriage 

bed 
To  make  thyself  a  pagan  holiday! 

"Give  us  our  men?"  All,  nay,  the  time's  away; 

Our  breasts  are  dry  and  cold,  though  hearts 

aflame 
Arraign  thee  thus!    Yet  wreaths  for  us  today 

Of  rue  and  rosemary  are  all  we  claim. 

Of  rosemary  for  each  loved  hero's  name 
Writ  in  our  hearts  in  deathless  memory; 
119 


SONGS  OF  LIFE  AND  LOVE 

E'en  in  this  dim  gray  underside  of  Fame, 
Our  sorrow's  crown  we  needs  must  take  of 
thee. 

DIM  CHERUB  FACES,  PEERING  THROUGH  BARS 

We  are  the  unborn  at  the  gate  of  life, 

Sons  of  these  gentle  spinsters  robbed  by 

thee 

Of  Motherhood  and  honored  name  of  Wife; 
Where  are  our  Fathers  whom  thou  heldst 
in  fee? 

Our  mothers'  patient  eyes  we  dimly  see, 
And  read  of  LIFE  in  prisms  of  their  tears; 

Our  phantom  fingers  touch  theirs  constantly 
With   wistful   longing   through   the   silent 
years. 

ALL 

Oh,  Holy  Spirit,  Dove  of  Peace,  arise! 
Beyond   war's   crimson   flood   where   demons 

wait, 

Cull  Thou  the  olive  branch  to  glad  wet  eyes 
Waiting  deliverance  from  untoward  fate. 

God  of  our  fathers,  Thou,  Jehovah,  great, 
God  of  our  mothers,  Jesu,  Mary's  Son, 
120 


LIFE'S  ARRAIGNMENT 

Dethrone   for  aye  War's  gruesome  god   of 

Hate, 

And  see  Thy  reign  of  LOVE  and  PEACE 
begun! 


121 


LIFE  AND  THE  VISION 

REMOTE  and  dim  uprears  the  apex  pale 

Of    yonder    heaven-communing    mountain 

crest, 
White  clouds,  like  lost  birds,  homing  on  its 

breast ; 

Warm,  pulsing  life  waits  low  within  the  vale 
In  ardent  soil  whence  purpling  lilies  hail, 

And  joy  in  love  is  sung  from  every  nest; 
(Here,  clapping  hands,  the  hills  their  glee  attest, 
While  reed-brooks  purl   contentment  in  the 
dale. 

So  is  Life's  mountain  at  its  broadest  girth, 
All  big  and  bringing  forth,  yea,  pregnant 

eke 
With    flower   and    song,    its    ground-streams 

chanting  birth, 

Unconscious  of  the  vision  at  the  peak 
Where,  rapt,  the  poet,  for  the  sons  of  earth, 
Sings  LIFE  and  LOVE— nor  recks  his 
lone  height  bleak. 
122 


JUST   FOR  FUN 


YE  MERRY  PEACEMAKERS 

DOES   the   dog-star   guard   the   diamonds   in 

Orion's  shining  belt? 
Did    Capricorn    butt    through    the    Milky 

Way? 

Did  Mars  turn  red  to  show  the  moon  how  mor 
tified  he  felt 
When  the  shooting  stars  went  skirmishing 

for  play? 

Oh,  I'm  sorely,  sorely  puzzled, 
And  the  puzzle-solver's  muzzled; 
Does  the  dog-star — did  Capricorn — did 

Mars 

In  the  ways  above  propounded? 
Oh,  I'm  puzzled  and  confounded, 
For  I'm  starting  up  an  interest  in  the 
stars. 

Do  the  Dryads  go  joy-riding  in  Aurora's  rosy 

car, 

Through  the  forests  while  her  ladyship's 
asleep? 

125 


JUST  FOR  FUN 

Speeding  back  before  she  rises  with  the  early 

morning  star, 
Her  engagement  with  the  jealous  sun  to 

keep? 

Oh,  I  wonder  and  I  wonder, 
Would  a  Dryad  dare  such  plunder? 
For  to  "swipe"  a  ride  is  worse  than  steal 
ing  pelf, 

With  no  chance  at  restitution 
And  the  direst  retribution 
Throwing  joyers  daily  out  upon  the  shelf! 

Does  one  need  to  see  the  sea  to  get  a  notion 
of  an  ocean?  [deep? 

Do  the  moon-fish  and  the  star-fish  light  the 
When  the  sword-fish  fall  in  battle,  do  the  dag 
gers  get  promotion? 
Do  their  widows  mourn  in  sea-weeds  while 

they  weep? 

Oh,  such  agitating  question 
Is  impairing  my  digestion, 
Even  threatening  interference  with  my 

sleep, 

So  I'm  striving  and  contriving 
For  investigating  diving, 
For  I'm  deeply  interested  in  the  deep. 
126 


YE  MERRY  PEACEMAKERS 

Do  the  spear-fish  mount  sea-horses  in  the  cav 
alry  brigade, 

When  they  quell  an  insurrection  of  the  Fins  ? 
Are  the  sea-wives  and  the  mermaids  in  at 
tendance  at  parade?       [begins? 
Do  the  trumpet-fish  blow  when  the  show 
Does  their  military  clatter 
Go  "Ra— ta— ta— ta— ta— ta— ta!" 
When  the  drum-fish  sound  the  morning 

reveille, 

While  the  moon-fish  go  in  hiding 
And  the  sun-fish  loom  presiding, 
And  the  ray-fish  "douse  their  glims"  and 
swim  away? 

Do  the  saw-fish  and  the  hammers  keep  the  sea 
wall  in  repair? 

Is  the  king-fish  democratic  for  a  whim? 
Does  he  spurn  the  seals  and  crests  and  all  the 

heavy  swells  forswear, 
Just  because  the  little  fish  are  in  the  swim? 
Oh,  I'm  puzzled,  sorely  puzzled, 
And  the  puzzle-solver's  muzzled; 
Do  the  sky-  and  field-  and  sea-folk  great 

and  small, 

In  the  ways  above  propounded? 
127 


JUST  FOR  FUN 

Oh,  I'm  puzzled  and  confounded, 
For  I'm  always  interested  in  them  all! 

So,  let's  build  an  incombustible, 
Invisible,  adjustable, 
Amphibious    machine,    with    searchlight 

small, 

And  steer  without  commotion 
Through   the    woods    and    sky   and 

ocean, 

Dear   Inventors,   then  we'll  understand 
them  all! 

We'll   plunge   beneath  each  submarine,   and 

learn  its  bottom  fact; 

Play  leapfrog  with  the  Zeppelins  in  the  air; 
For,  as  we'll  be  invisible,  there'll  be  no  need  for 
tact,  [be  fair. 

Though,  of  course,  as  neutral  nations,  we'll 
Still,  if  they're  too  iniquitous, 
We'll  make  ourselves  ubiquitous, 
And  flabbergast,  with  w7indy,  noisy  stunts, 
All  vessels  of  hostility, 
Until,  in  awed  humility, 
They'll  hoist  their  truce  and  sue  for  peace 
at  once. 

128 


OCTOBER 
A  FANTASY 

THE  Autumn  god  swears  he  is  sober, 
Tho'  purple  his  cheek  as  the  vine, 

While  he  toasts  "Octo-to-to-to-to-ber" 
In  queer  apple  juice  and  new  wine. 

The  cider-mills  whir  on  the  hillside, 

While  Robin,  half  drunk  in  the  tree, 
Throws  madrigals  over  the  millside, 

Ecstatic  in  rollicking  glee; 
His  red  vest  distended  with  berries 

Distilled  in  the  spirit  of  greed, 
His  pomp  as  a  gay  janizary's — 

He  chants  a  convivial  creed.* 

Then  sudden,  the  whistle  of  Boreas, 

Knife-edged,  shrieks  a  warning  of  blight, 

And  Robin's  bravado  victorious 
Is  hushed — while  a  ribbon  of  white 

*  The  robin  becomes  drunk  from  eating  certain  ber 
ries,  sometimes  falling  from  the  tree.  In  the  South, 
the  late  china  berries  intoxicate  him. 

129 


JUST  FOR  FUN 

Encroaches,  as  'nouncement  of  dolor 

To  riot — a  symbol  of  peace; 
And  wilder  the  orgies  of  color 

Flare,  death-mad,  refusing  surcease. 

The  ribbon  grows  wider  and  tangled, 

Throws  whipcords  and  bow-knots  of  frost, 
Till  Revelry,  hopelessly  strangled, 

Lies  panting — delirious  and  lost. 
At  this,  all  the  vines  on  the  hillside 

Drop  every  last  grape  in  the  hay, 
While  Robin,  grown  grave  on  the  millside, 

Sings  softly  a  different  lay. 

He  tightens  his  vest  o'er  those  berries 

And  toasts,  with  a  hypocrite  throat, 
All  sea-craft  and  house-boats  and  ferries 

Where  white-ribbon  sails  are  afloat; 
For  birds  aren't  so  different  from  people, 

And  Robin's  a  gay  politician, 
The  song  one  pours  out  from  a  steeple 

(So  much  may  depend  on  position) 
Is  not  like  his  perched-on-a-still  song. 

In  politics,  how  could  it  be? 
We've  all  heard  a  peace-and-good-will  song 

From  candidates  up  in  a  tree. 
130 


OCTOBER 

The  Autumn  god  winks  at  the  bird-song; 

It  gives  him  a  chance  to  brace  up ; 
He  calls  it  "the  queerest-e'er-heard"  song, 

Yet,  listening,  he  turns  down  his  cup, 
Remarking,  "There's  mockery  in  it!" 

He's  foreseen  the  decline  of  his  day, 
And  it  stopped  his  hiccoughs  in  a  minute — 

They're  occasionally  cured  in  this  way. 

Human-like,  he  is  dashed  with  amazement 
That  his  reign  in  one  season  should  run, 

When,  out  through  his  westerly  casement, 
He  views  his  broad  realm  in  the  sun: 

Sees  forests  of  gold  and  of  amber, 

Sees  bushes  aflame  as  on  fire, 
Sees  tawny-hued  vines  as  they  clamber 

O'er  boulder  and  turret  and  spire; 
Sees  orchards  all  red  with  fruition, 

Sees  meadows  of  yellowing  hay, 
Sees  fullness  of  all  rich  condition, — 

Sees  realization  at  play. 

And  he  cries,  "Praise  ye  frosts,  I  am  sober! 

With  Revelry  joined  to  the  saints, 
I  must  tend  my  own  fires-of-October, 

And  twist  my  last  tubes  of  their  paints; 
9  131 


JUST  FOR  FUN 

Yon  mountain,  dishevelled  and  drunken, 
Serene,  with  a  clove  in  its  throat, 

More  low  than  its  valley  is  sunken — 
A  color-debauch  for  a  coat! 

"Ye  gods!    Yes,  it's  great  to  be  sober! 

That  mountain  I'll  merge  in  the  view 
With  purples  for  royal  October — 

I  must  sober  my  landscape  up,  too! 
Then,  slowly,  I'll  cover  each  ember 

With  ashes  of  wild-roses  gray, 
E'er  wind-blown  and  weeping  November 

Comes  splashing  my  colors  away; 
E'er  querulous,  weak-kneed  November 

Looms,  clad  in  a  nimbus  of  weather, 
In  which,  how  I'm  chilled  to  remember, 

That  he  and  I  pass  out  together." 


132 


THE  MAN  IN  THE  MOON 

If  you  watch  him  long  enough 

And  never  bat  your  eye, 
The  old  man  in  the  moon  will  come 

And  turn  you  to  a  pie; 
But  when  he  starts  to  eat  you, 

If  you'll  firmly  hold  your  breath, 
He'll  choke  upon  your  upper  crust 

And  cough  himself  to  death. 

I  can't  exactly  vouch  for  this 

As  honest,  Bible  truth, 
Though  I've  often  tried  to  prove  it 

In  experimental  youth; 
My  trouble  was  I  always  felt 

Afraid  of  luney  men, 
And  when  he'd  stir,  I'd  bat  my  eye 

And  have  to  start  again. 

Still,  there's  no  harm  in  trying, 
Though  one  caution  I  advise: 

If  you  should  wish  to  change  your  mind, 
Be  sure  to  bat  your  eyes 
133 


JUST  FOR  FUN 

Before  you're  quite  turned  to  a  pie 

Without  an  eye  to  blink, 
For  then,  should  you  be  short  of  breath— 

I  do  not  like  to  think!  !  !  I  ! 

But,  if  the  worst  should  threaten 

And  he'd  get  you  in  his  vest, 
A  little  swallow  on  a  lark, 

Be  brave  and  do  your  best; 
Don't  lose  your  nerve  but  keep  repeating 

"I  am  always  I, 
No  matter  though  I  seem  to  be 

Just  middle-man  or  pie." 

Then,  think  on  Jonah  and  the  whale. 

Your  case  is  not  the  first, 
Keep  Jonah's  image  in  your  mind 

(This  may  not  be  "the  worst"). 
And  e'er  you  know  what's  doing, 

You'll  be  equal  in  renown, 
Though,  as  you'll  be  already  up, 

You'll  have  to  be  thrown  down. 

And  yours  the  greater  honor 

If  you  ever  get  your  rights, 
For  Jonah  sank  to  depths  unknown — 

You  will  have  scaled  the  heights; 
134 


THE  MAN  IN  THE  MOON 

And  still  one  more  advantage 
To  your  credit  there  will  be, 

His  story's  pis-ca-to-ri-al— 
Yours  is  AS-TRON-O-MY! 


135 


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